Carry You Home Tonight
by ournoisyhearts
Summary: It would just be a stereotypical summer fling, except for how it's not. Blaine and Sebastian reconnect during the summer following senior year, and their new found friendship develops into something neither of them is expecting. Seblaine. COMPLETE.
1. Part One

_notes- _This beast is finally complete! I've been working on this since the beginning of January, and it turned into a bit of a monster, totaling in at around 32,000 words. I'm going to be posting a new part each week until the whole thing is up, with chapters on here and my tumblr as well. I was terribly excited once I finished this today, so I only briefly skimmed for typos. Any other mistakes, I apologize for in advance. Drop a review, and I'll love you forever!

_disclaimer- _I own nothing but the basic plot. Credit for the title goes to the incredibly overplayed but still fabulous song _We Are Young _by fun.

* * *

**Part One **

* * *

The invitation arrives on a Tuesday.

Blaine is juggling his satchel, a stack of extra textbooks, his cellphone, and his keys as he makes his way up the front steps to his house, his eyes falling on the envelope that is sticking out of the mailbox next to the door. The sight causes him to grunt unhappily, and he finally manages to get the door open so that he can deposit his things on the kitchen table before he doubles back to retrieve the letter. The paper is smooth beneath his fingertips and as he turns it over in his hands, his gaze catches on the return address in the corner.

_Dalton Academy._

The familiar school crest is stamped next to it, and something akin to remorse begins to curl in Blaine's stomach. He hasn't spoken to any of the guys at Dalton since the whole Sectionals fiasco, and the reminder is enough to make his previously good mood dissipate.

He can still remember his own horrified reaction at the suggestion that the Warblers had cheated. There was no way; they had been _good,_ and whether Marley had fainted or not, Blaine was sure that the New Directions hadn't stood a chance. That was why he had immediately laughed in Sam's face upon hearing the accusation.

"_I think the Warblers cheated at Sectionals."_

_It takes Blaine a moment to register the serious expression on his friend's face, but once he does, he feels the smile slip from his own features. "You're kidding, right?"_

"_Come on, Blaine," Sam insisted, his hands waving about in front of him. "They've always been good, but those dance moves? Unreal. I only recognized like five of the guys onstage, too. The rest looked like thirty year olds, not high schoolers."_

"_They wouldn't. Not again," Blaine had muttered weakly, arms folding protectively across his chest._

"_Maybe not the guys you knew, but Hunter would. I have no doubt. And I get the feeling that the wrath of disobeying Hunter might be even worse than that of disobeying Sebastian."_

_Just the thought of the Warblers—his so-called __**friends**__—stooping so low to win had Blaine's fists clenching at his sides. He hated the idea of it, but as he thought back to their Sectionals performance and the insane amount of stunts that had been involved, it didn't seem that far-fetched. Not to mention the impression Blaine had received from Hunter during his impromptu trip back to Dalton just weeks earlier._

_Fucking Hunter._

"_Alright, fine. How do we prove it?"_

"_We head back to Dalton and do a bit of digging."_

And sure enough, he and Sam had discovered that Hunter had sat out over half of the _actual_ Dalton Academy Warblers in favor of bringing in professional dancers for the performance. The show choir board was notified, and the Warblers were immediately disqualified, leaving their Regionals slot open for the New Directions' taking.

Blaine isn't sure who he hates more after the entire mess, Hunter or himself. Sure, the Warblers had cheated, but Blaine had gone and _ratted them out._ What kind of person did that make him? The guys were supposed to be his friends, and for him to ruin their chances at a final Nationals trophy before graduating was...awful.

Sam had attempted to convince him that they had done the right thing, but Blaine wasn't having it. He felt _terrible._ It didn't help that the guys still had no idea who had turned them in, and continued with their flurry of random text messages and facebook posts directed toward Blaine.

So Blaine did the most reasonable thing; he simply stopped responding.

The messages slowly began to trickle off, and soon, Trent and Jeff were the only ones sending him the occasional _are you okay? _and _sorry for whatever we did to piss you off. _It really only made Blaine feel worse, but he wasn't sure he could face the guys, knowing that he had screwed them over so royally.

That had been February. Now it was May, and the last word he'd gotten from anyone at Dalton had been a short message from Jeff back in March: _Wes is in town for spring break. Just thought you'd want to know._

Even now, Blaine still aches for the familiarity of Dalton. He misses the Warblers terribly, misses the blazers and their stupid synchronized dance moves and aimless weekends spent gathered around the television in the common room. It's been two years since he left, and he is two weeks away from graduating high school _for good,_ and he still can't stop thinking about his old school. The mysterious piece of mail is only complicating matters.

Curling his fingers loosely around the envelope, he inches his index finger beneath the corner to tear it open, pulling out a sheet of cream-colored cardstock that is covered in looping back scrawl.

_The Dalton Academy Class of 2013 cordially invites you..._

Graduation. It's an invitation to the graduation ceremony.

Blaine stands rooted to the spot, his eyes staring unseeingly at the paper in his hands. It truly isn't _that_ farfetched that they've extended an invitation to him, and yet, he's still dumbstruck by it. Some irrational part of him is wondering how they haven't gotten the hint yet, but at the same time, he's...pleased that the guys won't give up on him. It's selfish, and he knows it, but he _wants_ them to miss him.

That doesn't explain what he's going to do about the invitation, though.

If he shows up, he doesn't know how he'll be able to look any of the guys in the eye and smile and congratulate them without feeling guilty (he tried to do that with Kurt, and look how that turned out). At the same time, he can't just _not _go without feeling guilty, either. It's a lose-lose situation. The date on the invitation is marked for a week after McKinley's graduation, so Blaine won't even have an excuse.

Fuck his life.

* * *

"They're going to hate me."

"If that were the case, they wouldn't have invited you," Tina states. The two of them are sprawled out across Blaine's bed, Econ notes open in front of them under the false pretense of studying for their final the next day. Blaine has his back propped up against the headboard, while Tina is on her stomach, chin resting in one hand. He's been pondering over this whole graduation thing for a week now, going back and forth over and over again. Should he go? Should he not?

Tina seems to be in agreement with the former.

"Look, Blaine," she sighs, rearranging herself so that she is sitting upright and cross-legged, "I know you feel bad about Sectionals—"

"More like god-awful," he interrupts.

Tina shoots him a look.

"But they _did_ cheat. They're not going to be mad because you told the truth. Sure, may be irritated at first, but they're your _friends,_ Blaine. And after all the time you've spent ignoring them, the fact that they still invited you to graduation is pretty huge."

Blaine wants to argue, but deep down, he knows that Tina is right. The problem is that he's honestly worried _he_ won't know what to say. After abandoning the Warblers for McKinley, then deciding to transfer back, _not _transferring, and steadfastly ignoring everyone for four months, what do you tell someone? _Oh yeah, I'm sorry about all that. _Right.

With a groan, Blaine slouches forward in resignation. "Fine, I'll go. But if this backfires and they do end up hating me, I'm crying on your shoulder."

"Deal. Though that's not gonna happen," Tina declares, shooting him what is probably supposed to be a reassuring smile. "It'll be fine. You'll see."

He _really_ hopes that she's right.

* * *

Finals week passes in a blur. Blaine spends his spare time hunched over his textbooks, submerging himself in his studies and only surfacing for the standard meal and conversation with his parents. Four days of testing, and then he'll be _done. _The thought is the only thing keeping him going at this point.

By the time his last exam lets out on Thursday afternoon, all he can feel is relief_._ Tonight he can collapse into bed as early as he'd like, and then tomorrow, he'll be receiving his diploma and heading off into the real world.

He's graduating. _Fuck._

It hits him in that moment, with his hand on the door handle to his car and his satchel slung over one shoulder. He'll no longer be in high school. He'll be an adult, free to make his own decisions. The thought slams into him like a sucker punch, and he's suddenly so overwhelmed that his body begins to shake.

His acceptance letter to NYADA is still sitting under piles of schoolwork at home on his desk, along with his acceptances to UCLA and Ohio State. He remembers the day the letter had arrived, the excitement pulsing through him as he dialed Kurt's number with trembling fingers.

_One ring. Two rings. Three. And then, finally, "hello?"_

"_I got in."_

_The words rush out of him in one breath, melding together as he speaks quickly. Then, slower, he repeats himself. "Kurt, I got in. I got into NYADA."_

_There is silence on the other end of the line. After a long moment, Kurt responds, "are you going to commit?"_

_The question causes Blaine to stop. "I don't know. I just...wanted to let you know."_

"_Look, Blaine—" The way Kurt says his name makes Blaine wince. "I know you only applied because of me. But I...I don't want you to accept unless you're absolutely sure you want to come here. Because it's best for you, not because I'll be here. Okay?"_

_Blaine's earlier elation is all but crushed, and he hesitantly murmurs, "Kurt, is something going on?"_

_A slow exhale into the receiver. "Blaine...I met someone."_

_And that's it._

March. Kurt had told him in March, after _two months_ of Blaine thinking that everything was fine between them. Better than fine, even. After his visit to New York at Christmastime, he'd thought they were getting back to the way things used to be.

Obviously, he had been wrong.

And so the NYADA acceptance letter sat, untouched, for the months that followed. There had been nights when Blaine would hover over his desk, glancing back and forth between his other acceptance letters in indecision. The NYADA letter remained taboo, something cursed that he tried to put out of his mind. Because what was the point of going to New York without Kurt?

What was the point of _anything_ without Kurt?

That had been his outlook for what seemed like...forever. Since October, when he screwed everything up, or possibly even before that. He'd been so naïve to attach his boyfriend to his college decisions, too. That was a recipe for disaster. _He should have known._

Now, as Blaine stands outside of his car after finishing his _last day of high school_, it all comes rushing forward, smothering him like a tidal wave. He is about to graduate high school, and he never even committed to a school to attend in the fall. What the hell does he do now?

* * *

His diploma feels all wrong in his hands as he is ushered into a group photo with Sam, Brittany, and Tina, bodies shoving past them and fellow graduates clutching their caps to their heads. As he musters up a smile for the camera, Blaine can't stop _thinking,_ his brain stuck on the fact that _he isn't going to college._ Detachedly, he notices as Sam claps him on the shoulder and pulls him in for a bro hug, followed by Tina smacking a kiss onto his cheek and practically shrieking in his ear. He wants to be as enthusiastic as them, he _does,_ but his future (or lack thereof) looms over him like some sort of impending doom.

Somewhere along the way, his parents had gotten the impression that he had committed to UCLA. Blaine's not sure if this is because he outright lied to them, but he's suspicious that Cooper might have something to do with it (he does, after all, live in Los Angeles, and talks to their parents at least once a week). Either way, Blaine's not going to burst their bubble now; that'll happen in August, when he adds that _oh, by the way, I'm actually not going to college._

Just the false scenario sends his stomach churning.

They all head out to Breadstix for a celebratory dinner after the ceremony, and Blaine shoves down his doubts in order to interact and appear appropriately excited to be done with high school. Each time his mom starts to tear up, he forces himself to look away and ignore the guilt consuming him, instead immersing himself in listening to Sam's dumb impressions and Tina's chatter about summer plans. It's aimless, but it at least distracts him from reality for a little while.

When he and his parents arrive home that night, his mother stops him in the driveway and wraps him up in the most constricting hug imaginable.

"We're so proud of you," she murmurs in his ear, and Blaine's heart plummets to his feet.

"Thanks, mom," he replies weakly, conjuring up a smile as she pulls away and beams up at him. His father simply nods his approval, hooking his arm around Blaine's shoulders and leading the way into the house.

Blaine can't help but think of what a disappointment he is.

* * *

"What are you doing here?!"

The words are yelled from somewhere in the general vicinity, and Blaine's head jerks up from where he had been fidgeting with his tie (a _regular_ one, not a bow tie, borrowed from his father; Dalton events always called for formal dress). There is suddenly a tall body pulling him forward, his face smashed up against the person's chest, and Blaine sputters as he gets a mouthful of red fabric.

"What the—I sort of can't breathe here!"

Laughter sounds from above him before the person finally lets go, and Blaine stumbles backward to catch sight of a grinning Jeff, graduation cap askew and cheeks flushed.

"Shut up! I was excited. Seriously, though, I can't believe you came! I totally wasn't expecting this."

Blaine lets out a quiet chuckle, his head tilting to the side. _Thank god Jeff hasn't changed. _"What do you mean? I assumed the Warblers were the ones to send me the invitation."

"Not as far as I know. Unless Trent did without—hey, Nicky! Look who came!"

Jeff stops amidst his own sentence when he spots Nick and some of the others in the crowd, waving them over. Within seconds, Blaine is surrounded by Warblers, the guys all speaking eagerly at him. Nick and Jeff keep firing off question after question, and Thad almost instantly deposits his cap onto Blaine's head, earning a laugh from the rest of the boys. Trent is busy complimenting him on his _professional_ look, straightening the tie that is wrapped around Blaine's neck. For the first time in a week, Blaine is genuinely smiling, any thoughts about his uncertain future being pushed to the back of his mind.

"So, which one of you losers invited me? Don't make me start guessing."

There is a collective murmuring around him and a few shrugs, but no one appears to confess. Blaine arches an eyebrow, but any further questions he might have are cut off when Nick and Jeff each throw an arm around him and turn to steer him out of the crowd.

"You've been MIA for months! Did something happen?"

"Maybe he was just busy, Jeff."

"Nicky, no one's busy enough to ignore my texts for _four months—"_

"Guys," Blaine interrupts, and they both settle their eyes on him and he tries to come up with an answer to the dreaded question. "I have an explanation, I promise. I'd just rather wait and tell all the guys at once, if you don't mind?"

Once both boys nod, Blaine lets out a soft sigh in relief and detangles himself from their death grip on him as they reach the doors to exit the auditorium. The fresh air is a welcome reprieve from the stuffy atmosphere inside, and Blaine immediately loosens the knot of fabric around his throat before following Nick and Jeff, who seem to have found the rest of the guys again, gathered off to the side of the courtyard.

"Blaine!" Trent calls out as they approach, reaching out for his arm and pulling him into the group of boys. "You're coming to the celebratory party, right?"

Gazing nervously around at the faces that are so focused on him, Blaine gives a helpless shrug. "Not like I have anything else to do."

The group erupts into cheers, earning an embarrassed grin from Blaine, who shakes his head. He figures he'll be able to come clean at the party, although it'll be pretty crappy of him to crush the mood. Telling the guys the truth is inevitable at this point, especially after witnessing how excited they all were that he had shown up. He still doesn't know which of the Warblers had the invitation sent to him, but that's the least of his concerns at this point. All he does know for sure is that he's glad he took Tina's advice.

It feels good to be home.

* * *

"So _anyway,_ Thad finds out about the peanut butter and literally runs screaming down the hallway, and Mr. Smith comes storming out of his room in that hideous robe of his and starts bellowing about curfew or whatever, and Thad is just _standing_ there in his underwear—"

The guys have all reconvened at Trent's house, where they are scattered across the back patio and listening to Nick and Jeff recount one of their infamous pranks. Blaine's eyes are watering and his stomach aches from laughing, and it feels _awesome._ It's been so long that he'd nearly forgotten just how much fun the Warblers were—with their endless stories, random chatter, and bursts of song. The best part is, it's as if Blaine never left. They've welcomed him back with open arms, and though a tiny part of him is still niggling with guilt, he's grateful.

After Jeff finishes with his current story, Blaine finds himself pushing up to his feet to stand and address the group, his amused expression morphing into something slightly more serious. The rest of the guys seem to catch on quickly, and they all fall quiet, eyes drawn to where Blaine is clearing his throat nervously.

"I have something I need to tell you guys," he starts, scratching at the back of his neck. "As I'm sure you all know, after your...disqualification, the New Directions had another shot at Regionals. First of all, I wanted to say that I'm really sorry you got disqualified, because that just sucks."

"It happens," Trent shrugs, and the rest of the guys murmur in agreement. "It's not like we didn't deserve it. We should have known better."

Blaine darts a glance over to Hunter, who sits towards the far corner of the group. He is watching Blaine with knowing eyes, and the attention leaves him feeling slightly on edge. "Well...I just thought you guys should know. Sam and I were the ones who turned you in."

The circle is utterly silent for a moment. After a minute that seems to drag by, a voice pipes in out of nowhere. "Which one's Sam again?"

Blaine swivels around, and his eyes catch on Sebastian, who is peering up at him curiously. There is no judgment in his gaze, just honest question, and Blaine immediately finds the tension seeping from his body. "Tall, blonde, kind of goofy looking? He's the one who was with me for the trophy thing."

Sebastian nods minutely before looking away, and the group's previous good mood seems to return slowly, the conversation picking back up again. Blaine glances towards Nick and Jeff, who each offer up a crooked smile.

"Hey, we screwed up. We can't exactly be mad at you for calling us on it," Nick exclaims, and Jeff adds his agreement. A grateful smile tugs at the edges of Blaine's lips as he takes his seat again, allowing himself to relax once more.

"That's why I wasn't talking to you," he admits, looking sheepish. Jeff scoffs and punches him lightly on the arm.

"Blaine Anderson, you are ridiculous," he declares. "There is honestly nothing you could do to piss us off. Any of us."

"I know that _now,_" Blaine huffs, shooting the blonde a playful glare. Nick lets out a chuckle from his other side and claps Jeff on the shoulder before standing.

"Took you long enough," he adds as he pulls Jeff up along with him. "We're gonna grab something to drink. You want anything?"

"No thanks, I'm good," Blaine replies. Watching the retreating backs of the two boys, Blaine quickly finds himself traipsing off into his own thoughts, but is moments later dragged back to the present by the appearance of someone in the vacated chair next to him.

"You worry too much," is how Sebastian greets him, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Blaine simply rolls his eyes and straightens up in his own chair, watching the other boy carefully.

"Can you blame me?" He asks.

The corner of Sebastian's mouth quirks up at that. "I have to say, I really didn't think you'd show up."

"You sent the invitation?" Blaine blurts, because _wow._ Sebastian is the last of the Warblers he had expected to have invited him, minus maybe Hunter. Even then, he and Sebastian have never been that close, not before the slushie incident and certainly not after. They had the occasional conversation, sure, but that was it. Certainly nothing that warranted the boy remembering to invite him to Dalton's graduation.

"Possibly," Sebastian drawls, both eyebrows raising as he takes in the look of confusion on Blaine's face. "I take it I'm not what you were expecting?"

Catching the double meaning behind Sebastian's words, Blaine slowly shakes his head. "You weren't kidding when you said you had turned over a new leaf."

"They all wanted you here but were too chicken-shit to add you to the guest list. I was simply granting the wishes of my fellow Warblers."

Blaine lifts his head in order to meet Sebastian's eyes, which are ominously dark under the dim lights of the porch. "They wanted me to come?"

He places emphasis on the leading pronoun of the question, and doesn't miss the way Sebastian's hands twitch where they rest in his lap. "Of course."

The two lapse into a silence, though it isn't entirely uncomfortable. Blaine finds himself wondering about this new Sebastian, particularly his motives. The flirty and conniving Sebastian would have invited Blaine in hopes of possibly scheming his way into a hook-up; but this Sebastian, the one Blaine has only personally associated with once before, is unfamiliar and difficult to read. There is also a tiny part of Blaine that is curious to know whether Sebastian had been involved in Hunter's cheating ploy at all. The boys had, after all, seemed at least remotely close when Blaine had paid them a visit back in November. It would make sense that Sebastian play a role in Hunter's plans.

As if he is reading Blaine's thoughts, Sebastian says quietly, "I told him not to. He knew all about what I did last year; I said that we couldn't be like that anymore. He just wouldn't listen."

"I believe you," Blaine murmurs, staring down at his hands. And surprisingly enough, he does believe it; despite having interacted with him so little, Blaine can already see that Sebastian has changed. He had caught glimpses of the change last year, when the other boy had apologized for his eye and taken measures to make up for what happened to Karofsky. It is obvious enough now that he is being sincere.

Blaine doesn't quite know what to make of it.

"So, big plans for the fall?" Sebastian finally breaks the silence that has fallen, and under normal circumstances, Blaine would happily pick up the conversation. Unfortunately, the question leaves a stale taste in his mouth, and he has to flounder for a reply.

"I, uh—just school. You know."

The eyebrow that Sebastian raises pointedly has Blaine shrinking back, ashamed. "Really. Never would have guessed."

Blaine hears the unspoken words that accompany the statement, the implied _what school? Where? _

After another awkward beat passes, Blaine realizes that he truly has no idea what to say.

"Where are you headed?" He blurts, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. Sebastian thankfully takes the abrupt turn-around in subject and simply shakes his head before answering.

"Columbia. Gotta live it up in the Big Apple and all that."

"I'm sure you'd 'live it up' no matter where you went."

This earns a startled chuckle from Sebastian, and Blaine finds himself smiling in return despite his earlier trip-up. He can do this; he can make conversation about the future without stumbling over his words, just as long as they aren't talking about his _own_ future. He thinks that Sebastian will fit in well at Columbia, and even though he knows next to nothing about the school, there's something about New York City and Sebastian that just fit.

Sort of like with Kurt, but he definitely isn't going there right now.

Dragging himself out of his thoughts, Blaine lifts his head, only to find Sebastian staring at him intently. It is still too dark in the backyard to make out much except the faint outline of his features, the porch lights reflecting off his eyes the only thing to give him away, but Blaine still has a sense of discomfort beneath the scrutiny.

He's often found himself at a loss while in the company of the other boy. Whether it be that judging curl of his lips into a smirk, or the glint in his eye that suggests he can see past every defense Blaine has put up, he always happens to make Blaine feel...uneasy, to say the least. Not in an invasive, disgusting sort of way, but in one that screams _I'm reading into your every action and your every word and I __**know **__you._ It throws Blaine off balance, leaves him scrambling to find some kind of foothold to catch himself, and he doesn't exactly know if he likes it.

"What?" He asks quietly, tipping his head in Sebastian's direction. The boy across from him hunches forward, resting his palms over his knees and turning to glance at some insignificant point to the left.

"...you're different here," comes the soft reply. "With the Warblers. It's interesting to see, that's all."

"Interesting?" Blaine inquires, the statement causing him to furrow his brows.

"Interesting in a _it's nice to see him so happy _kind of way," Sebastian clarifies.

"I'm always happy."

"Right," Sebastian scoffs, turning back to look at Blaine once more. "Nobody is _always _happy, Blaine. It's okay not to be okay once in awhile."

"Have you been taking notes from your therapist or something?" Blaine asks, his voice colored with disbelief. Sebastian goes eerily quiet across from him, and Blaine's head immediately jerks up, his tone shifting into something apologetic. "You—I'm sorry. I didn't realize..."

"Whatever," Sebastian interrupts, his chair emitting a harsh sound as it scrapes across the cement while he stands. "It's—it helps. I guess. You wouldn't get it."

The entire exchange pulls Blaine back, back to a time when he was young and shattered and drawn in on himself, refusing to talk to anyone and _broken. _And he really doesn't need to be thinking of this now, of all times, but here he is, remembering the desperation in his mother's eyes as she and his father pleaded with him to _just see if it'll help, sweetheart, please, for us._ He remembers the unforgiving leather couch in the office, the man seated behind the small wooden desk with his old spectacles and understanding smile.

He remembers the therapist's reaction when Blaine told him. _They beat me up because I took a boy to the dance._

The way his aged features only seemed to soften more, the sympathy in his tone as he described his own experience. _My parents kicked me out because I was gay, you know._

Forcing himself back into the present, Blaine opens his mouth just as Sebastian is spinning around to leave. "Maybe I do."

He watches as the boy pauses, then turns, coming around slowly to peer down at Blaine. When their gazes find each other in the darkness, a sense of understanding passes between them, and Blaine feels all the anxiety and tension and drain from his body in one fell swoop.

"Wanna get out of here?"

And Blaine nearly wants to laugh at the complete lack of suggestiveness behind the words, but he doesn't. Instead, he just nods and pushes up to his feet, trailing along after Sebastian as they bid farewell to the rest of the group. They all whine and scowl at Blaine's departure, but it's difficult to feel any remorse as that new _something_ crackles between he and Sebastian, and Blaine just wants to see where it takes them.


	2. Part Two

_notes- _One week later, and here is part two! I just wanted to say thank you for the amazing feedback on the first part. I'm really glad people are enjoying this so far, and hopefully it continues to live up to your expectations. The third part should be up by this coming weekend. Sorry about any typos or grammatical errors!

* * *

**Part Two**

* * *

"Nice tie."

It's just after eleven at night, and somehow he and Sebastian have ended up at some twenty-four hour diner on the outskirts of Westerville. Blaine's borrowed tie hangs loosely around his neck and a Dalton Academy graduation ceremony program is tucked into the back pocket of his slacks, while Sebastian has the top buttons of his dress shirt undone, his hair beginning to spring loose from the gel that is meant to keep it in check. They must look like quite the pair, Blaine thinks, two disheveled teenagers tucked into a corner booth at this time of night.

Sebastian is slumped back into the cheap leather, fingers tapping along to some absent tune against the formica tabletop, and Blaine finds his eyes drawn to the boy's slender fingers, his thoughts wandering to a point where he almost misses the idle comment. When it finally registers in his mind that Sebastian has spoken, he looks up, cracking a small smile.

"Had to live up to the Dalton 'gentleman' image, didn't I?"

A chuckle escapes Sebastian at that, and Blaine forces himself to ignore the warmth that curls in his stomach at the sight in favor of flipping through the generic menu in front of him. He finally settles on some random sandwich (because really, it's practically midnight and he is so not hungry) just as the waitress appears to fill their coffee mugs and take their order. She's an older woman, gray sprinkled throughout her thin hair and laugh lines around her eyes, and Sebastian lays on the charm like there's no tomorrow as he places his order, smiling widely and even throwing in a wink for good measure. The waitress' forlorn mood seems to brighten considerably at the attention, and Blaine watches on with something akin to awe in his eyes, because the Sebastian he is used to would never flirt with an old waitress just to _cheer her up._

As the woman finally heads back towards the kitchen, Blaine directs his gaze to where Sebastian has returned to tapping out a rhythm against the table. When he notices Blaine's stare, he merely shrugs his shoulders and blinks. "What?"

"Who _are _you?" Blaine finds himself asking. He knows his voice is probably thick with shock and curiosity, but Sebastian takes the question in stride, giving an absent wave of his hand in the general direction the waitress had walked off to.

"It looked like she was having a rough night," he explains whilst dumping a generous amount of cream into his coffee. Blaine's stare never waivers, and he waits for Sebastian to finish stirring a packet of sugar into his mug before responding.

"I came to some random diner with a total stranger," Blaine wonders aloud. Sebastian quirks a brow at him over the rim of his mug as he lifts it to his lips, downing a long sip.

"Why are you so surprised? I'm Mr. Nice Guy now, remember? I thought we already covered this."

"By nice, I just assumed you were refraining from being an ass. Not _actually_ going out of your way to be kind to others."

Clutching a hand to his chest, Sebastian's face takes on a mocking look of disappointment. "Blaine Anderson, how dare you doubt me! I've even taken to rescuing cats out of trees in my spare time."

The laugh that suddenly filters out of Blaine's throat startles them both, though Sebastian recovers quickly and adopts a tiny, satisfied grin before glancing down into his mug. Blaine catches the expression just as his own amusement trickles off into his previous fascination, and the two settle into silence, the only sounds coming from the sizzling of food in the kitchen. Sebastian is gazing aimlessly out the window, and Blaine is _still_ watching Sebastian, taking in his ruffled hair and flushed cheeks, the way his hand rests loosely around the handle of his cup.

He's starting to really like this version of Sebastian.

Their food arrives a few minutes later, and Sebastian is soon shoveling bite after bite of pancake into his mouth, starting into a story about Nick and Jeff and a tutu as he eats. Blaine can see the food in his mouth as the other boy chews and speaks at the same time, and there's syrup stuck to the corner of his mouth, and it should be repulsive and a disheartening show of manners, but all Blaine can think about is how endearing it is. Sebastian has gone from enigma to stoic observer to friendly teenager to hyperactive child in a matter of hours, and Blaine may have to race to keep up with him, but he really doesn't mind.

He's pretty sure he'd sprint as fast as he could if it meant he got to see this side of Sebastian, one that has successfully distracted him from all of his own problems.

"Make sure you take a breath, there," Blaine supplies after awhile, once Sebastian's plate is nearly three-quarters empty. The boy across from him grins around a mouthful of pancake and then swallows before reaching over to snag a french fry off Blaine's plate.

"Well, someone has to eat for the two of us," he deadpans, nodding pointedly towards Blaine's untouched sandwich.

With a roll of his eyes, Blaine leans back in his seat. "It's the middle of the night. I'm not hungry."

"Well, I'm _always _hungry," Sebastian snarks back, picking up his fork again and returning his attention to his short stack. Blaine snorts in a manner that has to be far from attractive, but says nothing more, contenting himself with idly stacking cream containers as Sebastian eats. At some point, the waitress comes by to drop off the check, and Sebastian pauses his furious chewing long enough to beam up at her and thank her for the _wonderful_ food before her cheeks flush red and she leaves. Blaine has to forcibly bite down on his own tongue to stop himself from blurting out something terribly embarrassing along the lines of _when did you become so adorable, you're Sebastian Smythe_, and crosses his arms over his chest before looking away. When staring out at the mostly deserted parking lot loses his interest, he turns back to the table and finds Sebastian examining him, eyes narrowed thoughtfully and plate long since scraped clean. Clearing his throat nervously, Blaine fumbles his wallet out of his pocket and chooses to ignore the attention, moving to set some cash on the table.

"I got it." A firm hand gripping his causes him to stop and look up, just as Sebastian tosses a few bills out next to his now empty coffee mug. He releases Blaine's palm only once he's finished, brows raising in a way that says _don't even try and argue with me._ An exasperated sigh leaves Blaine's lips, but he puts his wallet back anyway and doesn't protest as Sebastian slides his long limbs from the booth and motions for Blaine to follow.

"Thanks," Blaine murmurs as they make their way towards the door, and Sebastian shakes his head as the bell above the door signals their exit.

"Not like you ate anything. No wonder you're so tiny."

Mouth dropping open, Blaine shoves good-naturedly at Sebastian's shoulder. "Shut up, I'm not that short."

"Whatever you say, Killer," is the boy's teasing reply, and Blaine ducks his head almost shyly as the nickname slips from Sebastian's mouth. It hadn't been one he'd really taken into account much until now, but as the word filters through Blaine's mind, he realizes that he definitely wouldn't mind hearing it more often.

They climb into Sebastian's car, Blaine having left his back at Trent's, and as the engine rumbles to life beneath them, music immediately floats out from the speakers. It takes Blaine a moment, but he finally recognizes the familiar tune and promptly explodes, throwing his head back against the seat as his body shakes with the force of his laughter. Sebastian is shooting him a glare over the center console, wrist darting out to turn down the dial for the volume, but Blaine manages to swat his hand away between the hiccupped sounds escaping his throats.

"No, no, _please, _leave it on. I'm enjoying the fact that you listen to Justin Bieber way too much."

"I sang One Direction at Sectionals! What were you expecting?" Sebastian cries. "And besides, it's a mix CD. It's not _all _Justin Bieber. You have no right to insult me. I have it on good authority that you're a Katy Perry fanatic."

"Yeah, but—" Blaine gasps, finally managing to catch his breath as his laughter dies down somewhat. "I just—oh, man. Seriously, Sebastian, who _are _you, because at this point, I really have no idea."

Refusing to provide an answer for a long moment, Sebastian shifts the car into gear and pulls away from the diner, his fingers flexing against the steering wheel and mouth twitching into a knowing smile. "I'm really not what you were expecting, huh?"

"_Really,_" Blaine states. "I mean—at Trent's party you were getting all philosophical, and now we're in your car while you try not to sing along to _Boyfriend_—and don't even deny it, I saw your lips moving seconds ago."

Sebastian's face twists slightly before forcing itself into a neutral expression, and Blaine grins. "Hey, don't let me stop you. I'm actually...really enjoying myself. So thanks."

Darting his eyes over towards Blaine for a split second, Sebastian's brows quirk up in surprise before a small smile crosses his face. "Don't mention it, Anderson. It seemed like you could use a bit of a...distraction."

Blaine merely nods, abruptly feeling slightly perturbed by Sebastian's uncanny ability to understand him. Even after months without contact, the boy can still read Blaine like an open book. Perhaps it only terrifies Blaine because over the past few hours, he's found that he truly has no _idea_ what Sebastian is like, while the boy appears to know so much about him.

"Where are we going?" Blaine asks after awhile, shooting a glance at the clock on the dashboard. _12:47._ It's only now that he realizes his curfew was almost an hour ago, and that his parents are probably wondering over his whereabouts.

He also realizes that he's eighteen, he's graduated high school, and he doesn't actually _care._

"You'll see," comes Sebastian's ominous response.

"I'm going to end up dead in a ditch somewhere, aren't I?"

"Possibly. Don't worry, I'd still have my filthy way with you first."

And _this _is the Sebastian that Blaine's familiar with, heat creeping into his cheeks at the comment as he focuses his eyes on the passing scenery and gazes anywhere that isn't the boy next to him. It was only a matter of time, Blaine thinks, until the crude humor returned, and although it leaves him flustered, he doesn't find it as obnoxious as in the past. If anything, it settles the last of his nerves and reminds him that there is some part of the other boy that he recognizes.

"So, can I ask you something?" Sebastian asks a beat later, and Blaine tilts his head curiously.

"I guess. Should I be wary?"

A low chuckle sounds from Sebastian's side of the car before he speaks again. "Maybe?"

Blaine sighs through his own apprehension and slumps against the door, propping his head up on the window. "Just ask."

"What are you really doing in the fall?"

Blaine knows his wince is noticeable, even in the darkness of the car, and he clenches his eyes shut in order to avoid the brief look Sebastian shoots in his direction. He should have known the subject would come up again. This is _Sebastian,_ after all, and he's nothing more than generally curious, but that doesn't stop Blaine from hating him just a little bit in that moment.

Steeling himself with a deep breath, he forces his eyes back open and stares resolutely out the front windshield. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Sebastian echoes, his tone morphing into one of understanding. "So no school, then."

"I just...I never commit. My mind was all over the place, and I didn't know what I was going to do."

Why is he bothering? The explanation sounds pathetic, even to his own ears, but when he glances over at Sebastian, the boy's expression lacks any form of judgment. Instead, he looks thoughtful, his lips pursed as he gazes out at the road.

"I have to say, I am pretty shocked. I mean, you've always seemed to know exactly what you wanted to do," he comments softly, "but it's not the end of the world, you know? A lot of people take a year off before school. That doesn't mean that you've failed or something."

"I feel like I have," Blaine replies, just as quiet. They lapse into a contemplative silence, Sebastian focused on his driving and Blaine losing himself in his own thoughts as he replays the other boy's words in his mind.

_That doesn't mean that you've failed._

Certainly, in one aspect he has. His parents are going to be so incredibly disappointed, and it kills him. Seeing the defeat on both his mother and his father's faces during the months following the accident freshman year was more than enough for Blaine, and he doesn't need to relive the experience. But maybe—_maybe, _a tiny part of him thinks that Sebastian is right. Sure, it's absolutely terrifying to have no plan for his future, but perhaps the open-endedness of the situation will do Blaine some good.

"We're here," Sebastian declares a few minutes later, and Blaine makes his way out of the car without really being conscious of it, his eyes tracing their surroundings.

"Schrock Lake?" Blaine has to squint to make out the near-black surface of the water, gaze following the line of trees scattered about the shore, as he tries to contain his surprise. The last time he'd been out here was probably in middle school, for a family barbecue on the Fourth of July. He'd basically forgotten the lake even existed, if he's being honest, and he wonders what it is that's drawn Sebastian to bring them here now.

"I come out here pretty often," Sebastian is explaining, moving down to the pebbled shoreline and out onto one of the community docks that are dispersed along the lake's edges. Blaine watches as Sebastian lifts himself over the wooden gate that is meant to keep the dock closed off (but is really much too short to be of any use) and motions for him to follow before heading out to a lone picnic table at the end of the landing. Blaine moves to do the same, hurrying over the gate and across the dock, the old wood creaking beneath him. When he finally reaches Sebastian, the boy is seated on the single picnic table, his feet propped up on the bench and his eyes drifting over the expanse of water before him.

"I haven't been here in years," Blaine says absently as he takes a seat beside Sebastian. The other boy gives him an incredulous look, both eyebrows lifting.

"You're kidding, right?" Blaine shrugs, and Sebastian takes the motion as his cue to continue. "I love it out here. It's just so...peaceful."

"You sound like some cliché straight from a movie," Blaine retorts, knocking their shoulders amicably together. Sebastian scoffs and shakes his head, propping his elbows up on his knees and turning back to stare out at the lake.

"Everyone needs a break once in awhile," he murmurs, rubbing his palms across his thighs. "This is where I take mine."

And Blaine, if anything, can understand that. He suddenly remembers the whole reason that he's even here with Sebastian right now, the sense of kinship that had passed between them back at Trent's party, and he finds himself talking before he can stop himself.

"I never hated you," are the first words out of his mouth, and Sebastian shoots him an indecipherable look, his arms still resting folded across his knees.

"I know," he states simply. "I hated myself."

Blaine's head lifts at that, mouth opening to protest before he thinks better of it and looks away. "Why?"

Sebastian merely offers a rueful smile. "There's a multitude of reasons."

A moment of silence. Then Blaine's voice, slightly hesitant. "Try me."

Fiddling with the buttons on his sleeve cuffs, Sebastian slowly rolls the fabric up to his elbows, and Blaine can tell he is struggling to form words. After his bare forearms are exposed to the night air, he gazes upwards as if searching for something, and then says lowly, "I hurt a lot of people. I don't even think that was my intention, not really. It was just a game, you know? And I wanted to win. Whether the prize be a Nationals trophy, or...you," he pauses, clasping his hands together in front of him and avoiding Blaine's gaze. "I'm not going to whine about how horrible my past is, or use my home life as an excuse. I take full responsibility for the consequences of my actions now. But...I'm used to fighting for what I want, whether it be a material object, or even just some attention. And I guess that overlapped with everything else in my life, and shit happened, and I'm still not really over it."

Blaine wants to ask for details, wants to know everything there is to know about Sebastian's past and his family and his other relationships, but now isn't the time. Instead, he trails his fingers absently along the fabric of the tie around his neck, and asks, "Your past, is that why...?"

"The therapy? Sort of." Sebastian carefully lifts his head and peers over at Blaine, the darkness of his eyes eerily similar to how they appeared back at Trent's party. "I thought it might help. All around. I'm pretty screwed up, on multiple accounts, and I figured that something was better than nothing."

"And it is," Blaine clarifies, and they both know that he's speaking from experience. "Better than nothing, I mean. It works wonders, doesn't it?"

The tiniest of smiles blossoms on Sebastian's face, and he nods slowly. "It really does."

Neither of them press for more, even though Blaine is still craving information and Sebastian is probably wondering what exactly led him to need the therapy as well. No doubt he's heard stories—Blaine's incident isn't much of a secret at Dalton—but the emotional aftermath and the therapy were things Blaine didn't talk about much, if it all. As he considers it, though, he realizes that he wouldn't mind telling Sebastian one day. Maybe.

With that thought in mind, they settle into silence, and Blaine allows his mind to take the break Sebastian had somehow known it was needing.

* * *

"Hey." Blaine bends down and sticks his head back into the car doorway, finding Sebastian's gaze in the dimly lit interior of the vehicle. It's nearing two-thirty in the morning and they are back at Trent's house so Blaine can pick up his own car and head home, but Blaine finds himself reluctant to go as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

Sebastian seems to sense his trepidation, and he leans over the center console to give Blaine's tie a gentle tug, a reassuring smile spreading across his features as he pats Blaine's chest and inclines his head in acknowledgement.

"I'll call you?" It's supposed to come out as a promise, but Sebastian's voice lilts up in question, as if he isn't sure whether Blaine _wants _him to call or not.

But Blaine does. He really, really does.

"Okay," comes Blaine's soft reply, and it's slightly too relieved sounding for his liking, but when Sebastian just nods and squeezes Blaine's shoulder lightly before letting him go, it doesn't bother him so much anymore.


	3. Part Three

_notes- _I'm posting this a little bit early for two reasons: a week between updates, as it's come to my attention, is an awfully long time, and I'm also going to be absurdly busy this weekend. Thank you so much for the feedback, and keep it coming! I love hearing what you guys think. Especially since this fic is basically my beloved child. It's nice to hear you're enjoying it so far. Hopefully this part doesn't disappoint!

* * *

**Part Three**

* * *

Sebastian does call. The next day, in fact, just as Blaine is dragging himself out of the shower around lunchtime. He hasn't been awake for more than an hour yet, having collapsed into bed as soon as he arrived home after 3 AM, and it takes a moment for his mind to register the fact that his cell phone is ringing.

"Just checking to make sure you didn't pass out for good," Sebastian greets, and Blaine chuckles into the receiver as he digs through his closet for a shirt to wear, phone tucked between his cheek and shoulder. His parents had been sleeping when he got back, and he hasn't faced them this morning, but as Sebastian rambles into his ear about the supposed dangers of 'sleeping in' (_the day is a-wasting, Killer_), he finds that his parents are the last thing on his mind.

He's an adult now. If he chooses to stay out until the early hours of the morning, then so be it.

A moment later, he realizes that Sebastian has gone quiet and is waiting for him to respond. Clearing his throat, he tries not to sound too sheepish as he asks, "sorry, what?"

"You aren't even listening to me? Shame on you," Sebastian scolds. "I was saying that we should meet up for lunch or something."

"Sure," he agrees quickly, wincing at how eager he sounds. "Where?"

An hour later has Blaine following along behind Sebastian in the buffet line at the Golden Corral in Lima, watching as the boy stacks his tray impossibly full with food. After a brief argument over the phone during which Sebastian insisted he make the drive, considering Blaine had to trek the two hours in the middle of the night, they had finally settled on a place. Blaine is looking on in amusement as Sebastian continues to fill his plate, still not quite over the fact that this is _Sebastian Smythe. _He coughs to gain the boy's attention and simply raises a brow when Sebastian looks back over his shoulder.

"This doesn't really seem like your kind of place," Blaine observes.

"It's not," Sebastian agrees, scooping some pasta onto his plate. "But it's cheap and all-you-can-eat, and I don't feel much like going to a place where table manners are required right now."

Blaine laughs, earning him a smug grin from Sebastian, before he abandons the boy in favor of heading over to the salad bar. The amount of food Sebastian seems able to put away is almost intimidating.

Blaine nearly loses his appetite just thinking about it, and isn't that ironic?

He dumps a pathetic amount of salad onto his plate and takes a seat at an empty table, where Sebastian finds him a few moments later, setting his overflowing tray down with a _thump. _Blaine glances up with a small smile of amusement as the boy takes the seat across from him and begins adding a generous amount of pepper to his food, his mouth already going a thousand miles per minute as he starts to speak.

"I have another question for you," he begins, piercing a strip of chicken with his fork and slanting his eyes upward to meet Blaine's for a brief second. "You don't have to answer, but I feel obligated to ask, because if us hanging out is going to become a recurring thing, I probably need to know."

Bemused, Blaine arches a brow and swallows around his mouthful of lettuce before mumbling, "go for it."

Sebastian chews thoughtfully on his chicken and takes his time presenting the question, head tilting to one side. "You and Kurt?"

The words leave Blaine somewhat baffled, because he had assumed Sebastian would have known about the break-up by now. And then he remembers that he and Sebastian aren't facebook friends so he never would have seen the changed relationship status, nor heard the news from the other Warblers because _Blaine hadn't even been talking to them._

His face falls somewhat as he tries to conjure up an appropriate answer. _One that doesn't make you sound as dumb and pathetic as you actually are,_ his mind helpfully supplies, and he pokes frustratedly at his salad before deciding to just come out with it.

"We broke up in March," is all he says, and Sebastian nods in acknowledgement, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Can I ask what happened?"

"It's...sort of a long story," Blaine murmurs, because it is. He could just say that they grew apart, or that Kurt found someone else, but it wasn't really one event that triggered the break up. It was one thing after the other, the issues growing until they just couldn't surpass them anymore.

The thought of Kurt still causes an ache to arise in his chest, but it's more bothersome than flat out painful. He's had time to attempt to patch the gaping hole that Kurt left after that stupid, _stupid _phone call.

"You don't have to tell me," Sebastian interrupts his reminiscing and flashes him a sympathetic smile as he spins some pasta onto his fork. "I figured it was best to ask because I know he's not exactly my biggest fan."

Blaine can't help it; he laughs, shoving any other thoughts of Kurt back to the far recesses of his mind. Sebastian seems pleased by the sound, grinning before he returns his attention to his food, and Blaine finds himself firing back a reply. "Is anyone?"

"Touché, Mr. Anderson." Sebastian chuckles and reaches for his drink, taking a gracious sip. "Are you implying that this is some pity thing? Because if it is, you may as well just tell me now."

"Definitely not a pity thing," Blaine decides, wrinkling his nose as he ponders his response. "Your company isn't _that _horrible, I suppose."

"I make fabulous company, thank you."

"Oh, yes, who wouldn't enjoy watching you stuff yourself full of food? And the sexual innuendos are just the cherry on top, honestly."

Sebastian abruptly tosses his head back and laughs, his eyes cinching up at the corners and his teeth glinting as his chest rumbles with amusement. The sight leaves Blaine slightly dumbstruck, unused to seeing Sebastian so carefree and genuine. When he finally manages to calm down, he is wiping moisture away from his eyes and shaking his head, a stray chuckle still escaping his throat here and there.

"Like I said, _great _company. For the record, I've been trying to keep the innuendos down to a minimum for one precious Blaine Anderson's sake," Sebastian explains.

"Is that so? Well, I guess I should be thanking you, then."

With a roll of his eyes, Sebastian shoves a forkful of pasta into his mouth and then proceeds to chew obnoxiously, humming around the food and making unnecessary noises as he swallows. Blaine's eyebrows raise in disbelief, and Sebastian just grins smarmily, pushing his plate away with a satisfied huff once he's finished. All Blaine can manage is a shake of his head as they step away from the table, sticking his hands into his pockets and leading the way out into the heat.

* * *

They meet up every day after that.

Sometimes in Lima, sometimes in Westerville, and even a few times in a random town between the two, like the time when Sebastian insists they visit the Ohio Caverns a few minutes outside of Bellefontaine (he doesn't know what sparks the idea, but Sebastian refuses to drop it, and so they spend a random Wednesday afternoon touring the caverns with Blaine trying desperately to ignore his mild claustrophobia).

There are days when they do absolutely nothing, choosing to bask in Blaine's air conditioned bedroom or lounge beside Sebastian's pool. Occasionally, they'll simply drive around, pointing out stupid sights to each other and singing along to Sebastian's terrible mix CD's. Blaine has discovered that Sebastian has a serious fetish for not only Justin Bieber, but Top 40 Pop in general, and the shared interest makes arguments over music minimal. His favorite moments come when Sebastian has the windows rolled down in the early evening, a breeze ruffling his hair and carrying the smooth tone of his voice throughout the car. Blaine often finds himself unable to look away, too fascinated by this Sebastian whose guard is so completely down. Without fail, Sebastian will catch him staring, and a moment will pass before they both end up grinning stupidly at each other, Blaine relaxing back into the seat and turning his attention to the window.

He lives for those moments, and as June winds to a close without a single day having passed that Blaine and Sebastian haven't spent together, Blaine is becoming more and more infatuated with the present and less anxious about his uncertain future.

The first week of July, Sebastian calls him with the news that Nick is throwing a party on the Fourth and is adamant that they both attend. Blaine readily agrees, and on said afternoon makes the drive down to Westerville with excitement at the prospect of seeing the other Warblers curling in his gut.

Sebastian is waiting for him as he pulls up outside of Nick's house, offering a grin and a wave as Blaine emerges from his car. His hair is gel-free and falls softly over his forehead, hands tucked into the pockets of a pair of cargo shorts and sunglasses hooked into the collar of his white t-shirt. It still baffles Blaine that someone can look so flawless yet casual seemingly all the time, and he's caught himself staring at Sebastian on more than one occasion. He doesn't think much of it, because _yeah,_ Sebastian is good looking. He's not oblivious. Today in particular, though, Blaine finds himself appreciating the view more than usual.

And of course, Sebastian notices.

"Like what you see, Killer?" His eyebrows wiggle in the most absurd manner, and soon Blaine is laughing through the humiliation at being called out, giving Sebastian's shoulder a good-natured shove.

"Shut up," he mumbles. Sebastian's grin merely widens before he turns and leads the way up the front path to the door, forgoing any semblance of knocking in favor of pushing it right open.

"They're here!" A voice calls out from inside the house, and Blaine barely has a chance to step inside before he's being tackled by six-plus feet of blonde hair and flailing limbs. Sebastian shoots him an amused look over Jeff's shoulder and simply shrugs, moving deeper into the house and leaving Blaine to fend for himself.

"Hi, Jeff," Blaine says, fond exasperation coloring his voice. Jeff lets out a bark of laughter and then finally releases him, clapping a hand to his arm.

"We were hoping you'd come! Everyone else is outside. C'mon."

Blaine follows Jeff through the house and out into the backyard, where the rest of the guys are scattered about. Nick waves to him from behind the barbecue, while Thad and Trent call out to him as they dangle their feet over the pool ledge, a few other people already in the water. Blaine quickly makes the rounds, saying hello to everyone before heading back over to Jeff and Sebastian, who are both leaning up against the outdoor bar that Nick is sheltered behind as he flips burgers on the grill.

"All you need is an apron," Blaine states, earning a flash of the middle finger from Nick as Sebastian and Jeff chuckle from beside him. Sebastian then immediately reaches out and digs his fingers into Blaine's hair, ruffling it in greeting and drawing an undignified yelp from the smaller boy, who thrusts his elbow out in an attempt to get away. Sebastian grunts as the elbow comes in contact with his stomach, and the two of them end up in an awkward scuffle, Sebastian reaching and grabbing as Blaine tries ungracefully to meander away from his grip. When Blaine finally looks up a moment later, breathless from laughter and exertion, he is met with the calculating gazes of Nick and Jeff, who glance unsubtly back and forth between them. Sebastian releases Blaine's arm and eventually notices their looks as well, lifting one of his own eyebrows in question.

"What?"

Their response is a quick and slightly ominous, "nothing."

Blaine can already feel heat creeping into his cheeks, and he darts an uncertain glance to Sebastian, who just shakes his head before pinching the back of Blaine's arm for good measure and then strolls away. As Blaine turns his eyes away from Sebastian's retreating back and hesitantly peers across the bar, Nick waves his metal tongs vaguely and inclines his head.

"Care to share what that was about?"

Blaine huffs, folding his arms over his chest. "We're friends."

Jeff suddenly snorts, and Nick rolls his eyes before continuing.

"Since when?"

"Dalton's graduation."

A snicker comes from Jeff, and he opens his mouth to no doubt make some teasing remark, but Nick beats him to the punch. "You guys seem close," he comments.

Pondering the statement for a moment, Blaine's gaze once again scans the yard until settling on Sebastian's lean figure, taking in the long curve of his spine and the lines around his eyes as he throws his head back and laughs at something Thad is saying. He blinks, and the laughter is gone and Sebastian is looking at him, head tilted in question.

_You okay?_ The sudden wrinkle in his forehead conveys the words, and Blaine merely nods, offering a small smile. _I'm good._

"I guess we are." He manages to tear his eyes away from Sebastian and focus back in on Nick and Jeff, who are obviously intrigued by the short exchange. Schooling his features into a pointed expression, Blaine tries to send them a look that says, _are you done interrogating me now?_ Thankfully, Nick turns back to the barbecue with an unsatisfied hum, and Jeff takes the hint as well, sighing none too quietly and wandering off to pester someone else. Blaine sends his thanks to whatever powers-that-be for saving him from a meddlesome Nick and Jeff, and makes his way across the cement to a group of the guys that are beckoning him over.

Meanwhile, he steadfastly tries not to think about the conclusions Nick and Jeff had jumped to regarding he and Sebastian, and fails miserably.

* * *

The sun is just beginning to slip below the horizon as everyone finishes up eating that evening, when Nick declares that they should venture to the park a couple of blocks over for "optimum fireworks viewing." Trent bitches about lacking the proper footwear, while Jeff and Thad bust out into a rendition of "Put One Foot in Front of the Other" from _Santa Clause is Coming to Town, _snapping cheerily and causing Blaine to keel over in a fit of laughter. They all finally agree a few minutes later to make the five-block trek, raiding Nick's hall closet for some blankets to sit on and stashing a few grocery bags full of food at Sebastian's insistence (any comments Blaine tries to make about just having eaten are futile, as the boy simply arches an eyebrow and replies, "really, Anderson? I'm _always _hungry. We've established this.") They set out at a quarter after eight, determined to find a decent spot before the fireworks start at nine thirty.

Nick and Jeff end up in a vicious contest to trip each other as they make their way towards the park, and the rest of the group finds themselves scrambling to avoid being caught in the crossfire as random limbs are extended and bodies shoved this way and that. Blaine gets caught up in some random story one of the newer Warblers is telling, grinning widely and occasionally laughing at Nick and Jeff's antics. He's in a surprisingly good mood, which always seems to occur when he visits his old friends from Dalton. For a second, his thoughts stray to the coming fall, and his face nearly falls as he realizes that soon, most of these people will be gone.

Except for him.

A light nudge against his side pulls him out of his sullen thoughts, and he looks up to find Sebastian watching him with that uncanny, knowing expression on his face.

"Thinking hard there?"

Blaine manages to shake his head, shoving the unwelcome thoughts to the back of his mind for the time being. The summer is practically halfway over, and he knows that the time when he'll have to face reality is quickly approaching, but for now he'll continue to ignore it and just...be.

It's all he can do at this point.

He can tell that Sebastian senses there's more to the topic, but thankfully, he lets it drop. They've finally reached the park, and Jeff is sprinting out into the open grass in search of the perfect spot. Nick trails along obediently, unfolding one of the blankets and hooking it around his shoulders in resemblance of a cape before taking off after the blonde and shouting out nonsense into the evening air. Blaine and Sebastian share an amused look, Blaine biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to hold back his laughter as the fair amount of families already spread across the field look on in a mixture of entertainment and annoyance.

"Quit it, you're scaring the young children!" Trent calls, and Jeff offers a mock-salute before reaching out and snagging Nick's shoulder, tugging him down onto an empty patch of grass and motioning for the rest of the group to join them.

Soon enough, the rest of the blankets are spread out with the Warblers sprawled across them. Blaine has his knees pulled up loosely to his chest, arms resting across them as he observes the rest of the group. Thad and Nick are arguing petulantly over a bag of M&M's, Trent is gesturing wildly in conversation with a few of the others, and Sebastian is a familiar presence at Blaine's side, mimicking his position but instead focusing his attention on the strangers surrounding them. Blaine once again finds his gaze straying to take in Sebastian's appearance, the fine hairs on his arms and the hint of freckles across the bridge of his nose ("the goddamn sun," he had cursed the first time Blaine pointed them out, mouth twisting stubbornly). He's quite honestly a sight to behold, even in the dying evening light, and Blaine has to force himself to look away.

He's not sure when hating Sebastian turned into appreciating his constant company turned into whatever _this_ is, but he furiously crushes the swoop in his stomach and turns his gaze to the sky just as the first few fireworks are set off.

The guys mellow out almost instantly, all refocusing their attention on the colors above them. Bright flashes of red and blue and gold streak across the sky, the crackling noises echoing out over the field. There are a few shrieks of joy from the children in the park, some pointless _ooh's _and _ah's,_ but Blaine himself is silent, allowing the moment to settle comfortingly around him. He tracks the movements of the sparks through the air and simply empties his mind of any previous worries. And it feels...good.

"You're thinking too hard again," Sebastian's voice filters in through his haze, and Blaine is suddenly acutely aware of the boy's proximity, the sensation of his breath against Blaine's ear as he leans close enough to be heard over the sound of the fireworks. Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat, Blaine refuses to meet Sebastian's gaze, keeping his eyes peeled on the lights above them.

"I'm not, actually." Sebastian's low chuckle reverberates against Blaine's skin and he closes his eyes, curling his fingers absently in the edge of the blanket beneath them.

"Whatever you say, Killer."

Convincing himself to open his eyes, Blaine turns his head in Sebastian's direction and then stops. Sebastian's head is lowered slightly, eyes slanted in the most peculiar way, and he appears...affectionate, maybe? But Blaine needs to derail that train of thought, right now, because Sebastian is his _friend,_ possibly his best friend, and he's leaving for Columbia in less than two months, and—

"Blaine, stop."

Blinking in surprise, Blaine just blurts, "you called me Blaine."

"Because you were wandering off again and I had to keep your attention somehow," Sebastian explains, tone light with teasing.

"Hey, you two, save the flirting for later! We're trying to enjoy this family-friendly holiday over here," Thad yells. The blood rushes to Blaine's cheeks, but Sebastian just rolls his eyes.

"Not flirting," he answers smoothly. Jeff snorts from across from them, and Blaine ducks his head in embarrassment, the heat creeping along his neck and refusing to fade.

"There's no such thing as 'not flirting' for you, Seb." Nick's response comes from somewhere past Jeff's shoulder, his voice matter-of-fact. A few murmurs of agreement arise from the group, and Sebastian simply ignores them, as well as Blaine's sudden questioning look.

"Seb, huh?"

"Shut up. You used to call me Bas all the time," he replies offhandedly, making Blaine pause. The nickname was one that he'd grown accustomed to back before the slushie incident, when he and Sebastian had the occasional Skype conversation or Facebook chat. He'd completely forgotten about it, though, using Sebastian's full name whenever the need came up since then. The fact that Sebastian remembered, sounds even...wistful, sends something pleasant curling in Blaine's stomach.

"Nick has a point, though," he says finally, catching Sebastian's eye. "Flirting is sort of your default setting."

The change in Sebastian is immediate, the corners of his eyes crinkling and his face lighting up as he laughs, knocking Blaine's shoulder playfully with his own. "What can I say, I'm charming."

"Oh, very. _Do I look like a freshman?_" Blaine parrots, softening his voice into a deep rumble. The mockery earns a scoff of disbelief from the boy at his side.

"I do not sound like that! My voice, it's much more seductive. And you're the one who asked the guy over six feet tall if he was a freshman."

"I'd never seen you before!" Blaine protests feebly.

"_You're_ the one who could pass for a freshman. All nice and compact."

Blaine scowls. "Why are we friends?"

"I have no idea," Sebastian admits. The two of them stare at each other for a moment, and when Sebastian begins to laugh, Blaine can't help but laugh, too.

"Ahem!" Trent clears his throat pointedly, gesturing into the air above them when he finally has their attention. "Fireworks?"

"Trent, do you think I'd pass for a freshman?" Blaine demands, ignoring the boy's statement completely. Beside him, Sebastian groans and then gives Blaine's shoulder a reassuring pat.

"You're a midget, Anderson. It's okay, just accept it already."

"Leave Blaine alone and watch the goddamn fireworks, Smythe!" Thad shouts.

Sebastian lets out a _hmph_ and turns away from the rest of the group, but not fast enough to miss the mouthed _I hate you_ that Blaine sends his way. He smiles smugly and glues his eyes to the fireworks overhead, and Blaine slumps forward in defeat.

* * *

"So."

Blaine finishes stowing the blankets away back in the hall closet and turns around slowly at the sound of a voice behind him, coming face-to-face with an inquiring Nick. He sighs and spares a moment to quietly shut the closet door, then leans his back against it and folds his arms across his chest.

He should have known this was coming.

"So?" Blaine echoes. Nick's eyebrow lifts, and Blaine deliberately glances off down the hall, where the voices of the rest of the guys are wafting in from the living room.

"Do you..." Nick begins, trailing off and allowing Blaine to fill in the blanks. With a drawn-out exhale, Blaine lets his head fall back against the door and shrugs helplessly.

"I don't know, Nick," he says quietly. "A little? It's just...he's..."

"Sebastian," Nick finishes. Blaine nods carefully, grateful that he doesn't have to elaborate.

"Look, I know it's not my place," Nick adds softly, his gaze thoughtful as he speaks, "but...you guys are good together. As friends, sure, but he always liked you, you know? And it's obvious you like him, too. You should go for it."

Blaine can feel all of his doubts struggling to surface, thoughts of _but I messed up with Kurt _and _Sebastian doesn't do relationships _and, most importantly, _he's leaving in two months_, but he doesn't voice any of these to Nick. Instead, he reaches up and runs his fingers anxiously through his hair, muttering, "maybe." _Or maybe not._

Nick gives him one last encouraging look before the two of them head back into the living room, where everyone else is scattered across the floor and couches as Thad and Jeff debate over what movie to put in. Sebastian glances up immediately as they enter, a small frown appearing on his face as he meets Blaine's eyes and takes in his resigned expression.

"Took you guys long enough," Trent announces, distracting Blaine long enough for Sebastian's features to smooth out and the smile to return to his face. Nick slaps Trent lightly upside the head as he maneuvers his way over the maze of limbs to Jeff's side, and Blaine drops somewhat hesitantly into the open space next to Sebastian on one of the couches. He ignores the boy's inquisitive look and sinks back into the cushions, propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of them.

"I should probably head out soon," he acknowledges aloud, already weary just thinking about the drive back to Lima. Trent pouts up at him from his spot on the floor, and a couple of the guys mumble unhappily at the mention of his departure. Next to him, Sebastian's head tips back in surprise, settling against the cushion and rotating to peer over at Blaine.

"You're not driving back to Lima," he murmurs, a furrow appearing between his brows. Blaine glances at him reluctantly and blinks.

"Uh, I kind of live there," he states. Sebastian shakes his head as he watches Blaine intently, fingers darting out to grab onto his wrist.

"No way, it's already late. You can just spend the night at mine."

Cornered, Blaine finds himself agreeing beneath Sebastian's determined look, and exhales a long breath as the boy finally releases his arm.

It's going to be a long night.


	4. Part Four

_notes- _We're halfway there, guys! This part is slightly shorter, simply because that's how the chapters ended up being divided to keep things flowing in a reasonable way. Don't fear, though! The next part should be up by friday, and that one is of normal length. Again, thank you a million times over for all of the feedback. It really excites me that people are liking this so much. And don't be hesitant to drop a review- I mean it. Even if it's just incoherent rambling (I know my reviews usually are). I love being able to read what you guys are thinking.

* * *

**Part Four**

* * *

"You're kidding."

Shaking his head, Sebastian passes one of the rolled up sleeping bags under his arm to Blaine, then unravels his own and lays it out across the grass. Blaine looks on in wonder, his eyes wide as a grin threatens to spread across his face.

"Does it look like I'm kidding?" Sebastian adds, flopping down onto his sleeping bag and glancing up at Blaine with a pointed look that says, _get down here already._

They'd left Nick's house not too long ago, as soon as Blaine began nodding off against Sebastian's shoulder in the middle of some movie he hadn't been paying much attention to in the first place. Once they'd gotten back to Sebastian's, the boy had tossed Blaine some clothes to sleep in ("they'll be huge on you, but it's not my fault you're a midget," were Sebastian's exact words, until Blaine elbowed him grumpily in the stomach) and proceeded to disappear into his closet for a few minutes before emerging with two sleeping bags tucked under his arms.

Now, they're out in Sebastian's backyard, the time quickly encroaching on one in the morning. The swimming pool casts the space in an eery blue glow, the lights flashing across Sebastian's face and wavering every now and again as the breeze disturbs the water. Blaine looks away to unroll his borrowed sleeping bag, spreading it out next to Sebastian and lowering himself onto it so that he's facing the other boy.

"I haven't done this since I was...ten? Cooper and I used to sleep outside all the time in the summer." Blaine's fingers wander across the nylon fabric beneath him as he thinks back to nights spent with his older brother, flashlights and comic books and pile of junk food spread out between them. It was a time when Cooper was still his brother, at least more so than he is now. A sudden pang rattles through Blaine's chest and he realizes that he might actually _miss_ Cooper, even with his stupid condescension and Hollywood personality.

Sebastian immediately notices the nostalgia, and says quietly, "your brother, right?"

Blaine nods, lifting his head and offering a tiny smile. "He came to visit about a year ago, but that was the last time I saw him. He lives in LA."

"Do you guys talk at all?"

"A little. I know he talks to my parents pretty often, and we're closer now than we were before he visited, but..." Blaine trails off, fiddling with the hem of Sebastian's t-shirt, which hangs all the way to mid-thigh on Blaine's smaller form. His thoughts are interrupted when Sebastian extends his leg and nudges Blaine's calf with his foot, a motion of reassurance.

"Well, it's a nice night...morning...so I figured, what the hell." He grins almost sheepishly, and Blaine releases a soft laugh, turning away from Sebastian and moving onto his back with his hands folded across his stomach. Sebastian moves to do the same, and they both end up gazing at the clear night sky, settling into an easy silence. Nick's earlier suggestion continues to niggle at the back of Blaine's mind, but if anything, it's this kind of moment, where he and Sebastian can just sit and take in each other's company so effortlessly, that makes him afraid to move forward and do something to ruin it. The two of them have gotten close, incredibly so, and Blaine would hate himself if he somehow made things awkward between them.

Out of the blue, Sebastian asks, "did you have fun today?"

"Of course," Blaine answers, perplexed at the question. "I always have a good time with the guys." _And with you,_ he feels like he should add, especially as Sebastian's forehead wrinkles when Blaine turns to gaze over at him, but he doesn't and merely hopes the other boy gets the message.

"Just making sure," Sebastian murmurs finally, eyelids fluttering as he stares upwards and avoids Blaine's eyes. His profile is still lit dimly by the reflection of the pool lights, but Blaine can make out the anxiety written on his features, and hesitantly reaches over to touch the boy's wrist and catch his attention.

"Bas," he states softly, the nickname slipping from his mouth naturally as Sebastian angles his head to meet Blaine's gaze. They stare at each other for a beat longer than normal, and Blaine desperately tries to regain his voice so that he can continue. "I haven't been hanging out with you all summer because I have nothing better to do. We're friends, okay? I'd—maybe even go as far as saying best friends, but I'm not that ridiculous." Sebastian's mouth quirks up slightly at the comment, and Blaine presses onwards. "Whatever. My point is...don't start second guessing yourself. I already told you, I never hated you before, and I definitely don't hate you now. I genuinely _want _to be around you, so don't start doubting that."

Sebastian is strangely quiet after Blaine finishes his spiel, and for a split second, Blaine worries that maybe he's said too much—he always does, stupid, _stupid_—until Sebastian's face slowly begins to light up and a chuckle erupts from his throat.

"My god, Anderson, you're such a girl."

Blaine squawks indignantly and reaches over to swat Sebastian on the chest, only earning more laughter from the other boy.

"And you hit like one, too."

"Leave me alone," Blaine whines, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face in his arms. Beside him, he can still hear Sebastian's hushed laughter, and then a warm palm is on the back of his neck, stroking absently over the skin in a way that sends shivers down to Blaine's toes.

"I'm sorry," Sebastian admits, completely unapologetic.

"You hurt my feelings."

"But you just make it so easy." Blaine lifts his head long enough to shoot Sebastian a glare, and the other boy holds his hands up in a movement of surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll keep the teasing insults to a minimum. This friendship is just stifling my true personality, I swear."

Except they both know that the _real_ Sebastian isn't being stifled at all; in fact, Blaine will proudly admit that he's probably seen more sides of the other's true personality than anyone else. The thought warms him all the way through.

"No flirting and no insults. It must be so hard for you."

"It is!" Sebastian exclaims, and Blaine laughs as he props his chin up on his fist.

"I'm helping you, though," Blaine reminds him, and although it's meant in a teasing manner, Sebastian's expression softens into something more earnest, and Blaine is unable to look away.

Something that happens far too often, now.

"You are," Sebastian murmurs honestly, and it takes every ounce of Blaine's willpower not to close the distance between them, curl his fingers in the front of Sebastian's shirt and tip his head back just so...

Okay, maybe he has it worse than he thought.

"We should sleep." Coming back to himself, Blaine startles at the quiet tone of Sebastian's voice and simply nods in response, the day seeming to catch up with him at the words and leaving him bone tired.

"Breakfast tomorrow?" He mumbles sleepily after they've maneuvered their way into the sleeping bags, and Sebastian hums softly in reply.

"'Course," he mutters. "Sleep tight, Killer."

* * *

He's just walking in the door the next afternoon, calling out a hello to his mom and making his way towards the stairs when his phone goes off. Blaine can't help but roll his eyes. He and Sebastian parted ways less than two hours ago, and if he's calling _already_—

"What's up, dude? You, like, fell off the face of the planet!"

He doesn't know why the sound of Sam's voice surprises him as much as it does. It's just—he hasn't spoken to anyone from McKinley pretty much since graduation, and he realizes guiltily that it hadn't even occurred to him they would be worried.

"I'm sorry," Blaine says weakly, dragging himself up the stairs and into his bedroom. "I've...been busy."

"With what? Are you working or something?" It's a genuinely curious question, and Blaine could easily respond and just say _no, I've been hanging out with Sebastian._

But he's hesitant. He finds himself struggling to form a reply, and he sort of hates himself for it, because how can he be considering lying to Sam, and about _Sebastian _no less?

"No, I've been...hanging out with the Warblers a lot. That's all."

"Oh," Sam replies, slightly shocked. "Do they know we...?"

"Yeah. I told them back at the beginning of the summer. It wasn't a big deal."

"Well, that's good," Sam says honestly, and Blaine is instantly grateful that his friend isn't the press-for-information type. "Do you think you can abandon them for a day in favor of hanging out with your old McKinley pals? We miss you. Tina's been moping and Brittany's been asking where her curly-haired troll went."

The statement causes Blaine to laugh, and he finds himself agreeing immediately. It'll be good to see everyone, and a day without Sebastian isn't going to kill him. Sam tells him they can all meet up at his house the following day, and then the two say their goodbyes and hang up. He is just hitting the 'end call' button when his phone chimes with a new text message.

_From: Sebastian_

_Yours tomorrow?_

The two words result in the smile dropping rapidly from Blaine's face, and he stares down at Sebastian's name on the screen, unsure of how to reply. It shouldn't be a big deal—he and Sebastian have spent every waking moment together this summer, and again, a day apart isn't going to kill him. However, he still chews nervously at his thumbnail as he taps out his response, remorse curling his gut.

_From: Blaine_

_Can't. Meeting up with Sam and a few of the others. See you Thursday?_

_From: Sebastian_

_Oh. Have fun._

It's a completely civil statement, but Blaine still feels his stomach drop in shame because he _knows_ there's more that Sebastian isn't saying. He shouldn't be feeling bad about this—he _shouldn't._ This is what he tells himself as he tries to ignore the fact that Sebastian never acknowledged his proposal for future plans, his shoulders drooping in resignation.

* * *

"What's got you all mopey?" Tina pokes lightly at his cheek, snapping him out of his reverie and causing him to straighten up slightly from his slouch.

"Nothing," Blaine insists.

"You look like someone just ran over your puppy," Artie states. Prodding absently at his ice cream with his spoon, Blaine sighs and keeps his eyes firmly planted on the table.

"I'm fine, guys. I promise."

"Don't lie to us, Blaine Warbler. Lord Tubbington wouldn't approve." The mention of Brittany's pet cat has him cracking a smile, but it quickly vanishes as his thoughts wander back to Sebastian and his vague text message and his dumb mix CD's and his obvious food addiction—

"Blaine," Tina huffs, and suddenly, his ice cream is being wrenched away from him, leaving him waving a spoon around in mid-air. He stops and lowers his hand dejectedly, glancing up at his friend and trying to keep the annoyed look off his face.

"Can I have my ice cream back?" He asks, and when Tina shakes her head, he slumps forward miserably. This is a conversation he could do without having _ever,_ but unfortunately, it doesn't appear that his friends are going to let up any time soon.

"Tell us what's wrong," Tina demands. Blaine shoots a desperate look at Sam, but the blonde simply shrugs, and the table falls silent as they all wait for him to speak.

"Guys," Blaine pleads to no avail.

"Does this have anything to do with the reason you've been suspiciously MIA all summer?" Artie questions.

"I—"

Across the table from him, Tina gasps. "Blaine Anderson! Are you _seeing _someone?"

"Blainey has a boyfriend!" Sugar chirps, and Blaine buries his head in his hands with a groan.

"I'm not—he's not my boyfriend," he murmurs weakly, and Tina squeals.

"But you want him to be."

"Dude, who is it?" Sam inquires, and everyone quiets in eagerness for his answer.

"You're all going to hate me."

"We're not going to _hate _you, Blaine," Tina states. "Just tell us already!"

"Okay, it's—well, Tina, you know how I went to Dalton's graduation at the beginning of the summer, and I got to see all the guys and everything—"

"You're dating a _Warbler?!_" Sugar cries, and Blaine digs his fingers into his hair in frustration.

"We're not—we're not _dating!_" He sputters. "I went to Dalton's graduation and reconnected with Sebastian and we started hanging out, alright?"

The words leave him in one huge rush, and the look of shock that is paralleled on everyone's faces would be nearly comical if Blaine couldn't sense the apprehension practically radiating off of them.

"_Sebastian? _As in evil ex-captain slash blackmailer slash Satan's _spawn _Sebastian?" Artie hisses. Blaine sinks down into his chair and simply nods, wringing his hands together in his lap.

"He really isn't that bad..."

"Not that bad? He nearly blinded you!" Tina cries.

"You think I don't know that?" Blaine snaps, suddenly defensive. "Yeah, he did a lot of terrible stuff, and I get that. But he _apologized _and he genuinely feels bad about everything. So I let him in, and it turns out he's actually pretty cool." The rest of the group just gapes at his outburst, and with a shaky exhale, Blaine forces himself to calm down. "Everyone deserves a second chance, guys."

"We're sorry." Sam's voice breaks the awkward silence a couple of seconds later, his tone repentant, and Blaine waits as everyone else mumbles their apologies as well. "If you're friends with Sebastian—well, more power to you. It's really none of our business. You should have told us sooner though, dude."

"I know," Blaine admits. "And I'm sorry I've kind of been...neglecting you guys. That wasn't right."

"We understand...sort of," Tina adds, smiling hesitantly. Blaine offers her a grateful look in return, and then Sugar is latching onto his arm so abruptly that he jumps, spinning around to glance down at her.

"So you _don't _have a boyfriend?" She pouts, and Blaine chuckles before extracting himself gently from her grip.

"He's not my boyfriend, Sugar," he clarifies. The girl lets out a huff of disappointment, and Blaine turns back to the table to find Tina watching him thoughtfully.

"You want him to be," she repeats.

All Blaine can do is shrug helplessly.

"Then tell him!"

"It's not that easy," Blaine frowns, reminiscing back on his conversation with Nick. _You should go for it._ God knows, he wants to. He's just so worried about ruining their stupid _friendship_ for something that can't even last past the summer...

And that's the thing. Sebastian is going to New York in the fall, and Blaine has no idea where he's going to be. He'd tried long distance once before, and that had failed terribly. He's not going to risk it again. Sure, he and Sebastian can maintain their friendship, no problem; a friendship doesn't require as much time and attention. Blaine just can't jump into something with the other boy knowing that it has to end within a matter of months, because in all honesty, he wants so much more than that.

The cruel reality of the situation hits him then and sinks in. He and Sebastian are never going to be more than friends...at least, not now. It stings, and leaves his chest feeling somewhat hollow. When did his life turn into such a teenage angst fest?

But if being friends with Sebastian is all he can get, he'll take it. The past month has found Blaine happier than he's been in a long while, and he refuses to give that up. He'll cling to their friendship as best he can, and go from there. It's the only viable option.


	5. Part Five

_notes- _As promised, here's a much longer- and exciting- chapter! I don't really have much to say (shocker), except thank you for the feedback, as usual! And please please please, keep reviewing. ANY response is much appreciated!

* * *

**Part Five**

* * *

As soon as he wakes up the next morning, Blaine scrambles for his phone and fires off a text message to Sebastian.

_From: Blaine_

_Don't be an asshole. Are we meeting up today?_

The reply arrives alarmingly fast.

_From: Sebastian_

'_Asshole' is sort of my natural setting. Sorry._

_From: Sebastian_

_I'm pulling onto the freeway now. Stop texting me or I'll crash._

_From: Blaine_

_Then stop responding._

_From: Sebastian_

_Someone's snarky this morning._

_From: Blaine_

_Bas, drive._

His phone is quiet after that (thank god—something about the prospect of Sebastian getting in an accident and _joking_ about it has left Blaine slightly sick to his stomach). He's also trying not to dwell on the embarrassing amount of relief that had coursed through him when Sebastian had first responded, confirming the fact that he wasn't pissed about the day before.

And if that isn't bad enough, the monstrous grin that threatens to break out across his face when he hears the front door open less than two hours later definitely _is._ Blaine stomps down on the urge to take the stairs two at a time, instead forcing himself to make his way down to the first floor at a reasonable pace, smothering a laugh when Sebastian calls out an obnoxiously loud "honey, I'm home!"

"You're an idiot," Blaine greets fondly, stopping on the last step and leaning up against the railing. Sebastian just grins at him from the entryway, pushing the hair away from his eyes as he shuts the door behind himself and then closes the distance between them.

"Aw, Killer, you know you missed me," he drawls.

"It was one day," Blaine deadpans. Sebastian has the decency to look offended, folding his arms across his chest.

"One day too long! I know how codependent you are. You were probably crying without me."

"Or not."

"I'm hurt, Blaine. Honestly."

Blaine merely laughs before coming off the last stair to stand properly in front of Sebastian, tipping his head back to meet the boy's gaze. Sebastian is still smiling, the corners of his lips tilting up in a manner that's almost affectionate, and Blaine just about melts from the warmth that is radiating from the boy's eyes.

"Big plans for today?" He manages to say finally, glancing down at his feet, and Sebastian hums.

"I don't know if you can really call them 'big plans,' but I had an idea of what we could do, yes."

Tilting his head slightly, Blaine asks, "does it involve any stealing or murdering? Because if so, I'm gonna have to bail."

"Nah, I have way more class than that," comes Sebastian's response, "I was thinking along the lines of torture."

If "torture" translates to climbing into Sebastian's car and driving an hour out into the absolute middle of nowhere, then Blaine apparently needs to reevaluate his definition of the word. He is perfectly content with staring out the window as one of Sebastian's mix CD's filters from the speakers, forehead propped up against the glass and Sebastian an ever-familiar presence at his side. They've passed nothing but miniscule, highway-side towns since leaving Lima, and Blaine would ask where they're going, but he's found that with Sebastian, it's better not to. Whatever their destination may be, Blaine knows it'll end up being worth it, so he keeps his mouth shut and simply dozes, only coming back to himself when the car jostles to a stop a good half hour later.

"Bas?" He questions, scrubbing a hand across his eyes and gingerly unhooking his seatbelt before twisting around to peer out the window. The sight that greets him is probably one of the last he would have expected, but then again, Sebastian has been full of surprises ever since their first night out together after Dalton's graduation.

Stretched out in front of them is an atypical county fair, cheap food booths and game stands and ferris wheel all rolled into one. The scent of cotton candy and an array of deep-fried foods hits Blaine's nose immediately, and he crawls out of the car with only half of his attention on the amused look Sebastian is shooting his way, the rest of it focused on the carnival in front of him.

"I know it's pretty lame, but there's only so much one can do in Ohio," Sebastian explains as he crosses around the hood of the car and comes to stand at Blaine's side. His hands are shoved into his pockets, and he seems practically...nervous, a hesitant smile on his face like he's awaiting Blaine's approval. Blaine is still rooted to the spot, not quite comprehending the fact that _Sebastian Smythe has brought him to a carnival,_ but he startles into motion a few seconds after Sebastian speaks, whirling around to face the other boy.

"It isn't—it's not lame," he says a bit breathlessly, ducking his head once he realizes Sebastian is watching him. "Bas...it's awesome. I haven't been to a fair since I was, god, six? I'm...thank you." The words stumble out of him in a rush, and he can feel his cheeks growing warm in embarrassment, but when he glances up, Sebastian has that fond look on his face again and Blaine is stunned into silence.

He's never wanted to kiss anyone so badly.

It's not even an instinctual, crush-like thought anymore. He wants to kiss Sebastian, but he also wants to spend endless hours in the car with his dumb mix CD's playing in the background going to random places that are only meant to make Blaine smile. He wants to laugh at Sebastian's ridiculous eating habits, and camp out in his backyard as if they're five years old, and act foolish enough around him that all the rest of the Warblers notice.

He wants to sit on a picnic table in the middle of the night at Schrock Lake and talk about their pasts, their problems. He wants everything.

The realization leaves Blaine winded, the entirety of the past month and a half flashing behind his eyes and then slamming into the blank slate that is his future, his future with no college and no destination and _no Sebastian._

And the worst part is, Blaine knows there's still absolutely _nothing _he can do.

"Blaine? You still with me?" Sebastian's voice somehow filters through the haze clouding Blaine's mind, and he swallows around the growing lump in his throat before forcing himself to nod. _Stop thinking about it. It won't do you any good._

But this time, he can't stop thinking about it. He's been shoving down these emotions since the beginning of the summer, and now that the fall is rapidly approaching, he needs to start facing up to reality. Sebastian is leaving. He isn't. It really is that simple, and the sooner Blaine accepts that fact, the better.

That doesn't mean it sucks any less.

"S-sorry," he mumbles, after a conversational lull that lasts far too long to be normal. Sebastian is staring down at him in concern, eyebrows furrowed, and it even hurts Blaine to _look_ at him now, having remembered that soon enough, he'll be gone.

"Quit thinking," Sebastian states, and Blaine turns his head away in shame. "No, hey—Blaine, look at me." There are suddenly two fingers beneath his chin, firm yet gentle, guiding his head back around so that Sebastian can meet his gaze. Any noise from the fair behind them is drowned out by the honest worry in Sebastian's eyes, and Blaine is torn between falling into him and running away. "I brought you here because I knew you'd have fun, and I don't want anything to ruin that. So just...forget about everything for a little while, okay? We can talk later, if you need to. But for right now, let's just have a good time. No angsting over things you can't even control. We're gonna eat a shit ton of friend food, get sick after going on the Gravitron, and then I'm going to win you one of those stupid teddy bears, and you are _not_ going to mope. Deal?"

By the end of Sebastian's rant, Blaine's eyes are stinging and his chest feels tight, so he surreptitiously attempts to lift a hand to his eyes and wipe away the moisture before Sebastian can think too much of it. He then conjures up a shaky smile, a hiccupped laugh escaping his throat as he murmurs, "deal."

* * *

True to his word, Sebastian consumes an alarming amount of food within the next hour, including half of Blaine's single funnel cake and a deep-fried Snickers bar ("deep-fried is just another term for 'sent from God,'" Sebastian explains). He then tugs Blaine onto every ride in the general vicinity, including the Gravitron and the Zipper, while somehow managing to keep his full stomach intact. Blaine quickly overcomes his earlier morose thoughts and simply allows Sebastian to drag him around, making the appropriate disgusted face when the boy ends up with powdered sugar coating his chin and laughing manically as Sebastian insists on terrorizing the other visitors in the funhouse. The whole afternoon is ridiculous and exactly the kind of thing Blaine needs, pure fun without anything else to worry about (previous meltdown not included). As the sun begins to set later in the evening, Blaine finds himself trailing after Sebastian to the line of game booths, glancing on in amusement as the other boy contemplates the goldfish in the small plastic bowls at the ping pong toss.

"I'm pretty sure that's animal cruelty," he states, shooting a glare at the young attendant behind the counter before pulling Blaine over to the baseball throw. "I'll just stick with the teddy bear."

Seven dollars and five minutes later, the worker is obediently handing Sebastian an enormous purple teddy bear that he instantly passes onto Blaine, a smug smile on his face.

"Those games are always rigged! Tell me your secrets, I'm dying to know," Blaine exclaims, clutching the fuzzy creature to his chest with a dopey grin. Sebastian arches a brow and brings a finger to his own lips as they make their way through the crowds to the ferris wheel, stopping to take their place at the back of the line.

"If I tell you, my tricks will all be ruined."

"Hear that, big guy? Sebastian thinks he's a magician," Blaine directs his words to the stuffed animal in his arms, and Sebastian rolls his eyes at the sentiment.

"Or I'm just incredibly skilled," he corrects.

Blaine ignores him in favor of hugging the bear close and stepping forward as the line begins to move, and they reach the front a few minutes later and take their seats with the purple bear situated between them. Sebastian grumbles about the thing taking up too much room, and Blaine retorts with something along the lines of _you're the one who insisted on winning it_ as the ferris wheel jerks into motion, lifting them into the evening air.

The rest of the carnival is lit up below them, colorful lights and music and laughter filtering upwards as the ferris wheel circles around slowly. Sebastian has grown unnaturally quiet beside him, and Blaine shoots him a curious look as the other boy taps his fingers restlessly against the lap bar. His eyes are fixated somewhere on the horizon, the breeze ruffling his hair slightly and leaving it strewn across his forehead while his mouth rests in a contemplative line. Blaine is tempted to ask him what he's thinking about, but is too afraid to break the silence that has wrapped around them, and merely waits for Sebastian to do it first.

"Blaine," he murmurs finally, turning his head in search of Blaine's gaze. Their eyes meet, and even in the near darkness, Blaine can make out Sebastian's uncertainty. His breath catches in his throat and he waits hesitantly for the other boy to continue, stomach already twisting in nervous anticipation. "Blaine...what are we doing?"

A weighted pause follows, and Blaine has to squeeze his eyes shut as the earlier onslaught of emotions returns to overwhelm him. Defeated, he slumps down in his seat, fingers curling uselessly in the fur of the stuffed bear at his side. "I don't know, Bas."

When he opens his eyes again, Sebastian is _right there,_ his palm sliding around the base of Blaine's neck and simply resting there. Blaine's breath has gone shaky, fingers trembling as they reach out and hook in the fabric of Sebastian's shirt to hold him back (or possibly even pull him closer—Blaine isn't sure anymore).

"I want to..." Sebastian starts, trailing off mid-thought as his eyes scan over Blaine's features. The fabric of his shirt is soft and worn between Blaine's fingertips, their proximity causing him to practically _ache_ with want.

But they _can't._

"Bas...no," he chokes out, and the one word takes every ounce of strength Blaine has. His voice is raspy as he speaks, hardly above a whisper, but Sebastian hears it, his hand falling away from Blaine's neck and leaving an unwelcome chill in its place. _I'm sorry, _Blaine's mind supplies weakly, but Sebastian is already turning away, his hands fisted loosely in his lap, and Blaine wants nothing more than to tug him back in and kiss him at the top of the ferris wheel and forget about everything else. Unfortunately for him, his life isn't some pathetic romantic comedy, but he tries to tell himself that he's done the right thing.

"What are you so afraid of?" Sebastian asks quietly, and it's an honest question, as if he truly cares to know the answer.

_You leaving. Me staying. Ruining everything. Take your pick,_ he replies internally, but on the outside, he can't make a sound. Sebastian will see right through him, anyway; pick up on every insecurity, every doubt.

He always does.

The answer never comes, and Sebastian eventually glances back over at him, his expression filled with solemn understanding. "You think that, come fall, everything will change. I'll leave, and wherever you end up, we won't be able to make it work. Well, newsflash, Blaine: you don't know how something will end up unless you give it a chance." His tone is low, but still manages to slice Blaine to the core, leaves him raw and cut open.

"I did that, and it backfired on me pretty fucking badly, if I remember correctly," he spits defensively, and Sebastian recoils visibly in his seat, jaw clenching as he looks away again.

"I'm not Kurt," he declares stoically, "and I get that he messed you up, okay? I do. But I've gotten closer to you over the last two months than I have to anyone in my _entire life,_ Blaine. And I may be going to New York in the fall, but you and I both know that we're in this way too deep to get out now. I just...I want you to stop worrying all the fucking time and let this happen. Let it _happen,_ B. Give me a chance."

Blaine is suddenly transported back to a time over a year ago, the image of a lonely boy in a coffee shop filling his mind. The desperation and hope in Sebastian's eyes as he begged for Blaine's forgiveness. _Just give me a chance._

"I've been telling myself for weeks that I couldn't let this happen," Blaine mumbles at last, steadfastly avoiding Sebastian's gaze and staring out across the fairgrounds. The pinprick sensation behind his eyelids arrives unbidden, and he releases a shuddering breath before continuing, "Because it's going to hurt so fucking _bad_ when you leave."

Rough fingers encircling his own startle him into looking up, and Sebastian gazes intently down at him, voice devastating in its openness. "It's going to hurt either way."

And then the ride is over, the ferris wheel jerking to an abrupt halt and the attendant motioning for Blaine and Sebastian to exit. His hand slips from Sebastian's as they climb down the steps, walking in precarious silence to the boy's car, and Blaine's head is still a jumble of half-formed thoughts when they reach the vehicle, the giant teddy bear hanging forgotten under his arm.

"Blaine."

The sound of his name stops him, and he pauses with his free hand outstretched to pull open the passenger door, arm dropping cautiously back to his side before he slowly spins around. Sebastian is hovering right in his personal space, causing Blaine to stumble back a step until he hits the side of the car and jerks his head up, Sebastian's body looming in front of him. It's as if time is frozen, the two of them just watching each other in trepidation. Blaine can't think, he can't even _breathe_, his mind starting and stopping at the fact that Sebastian is closing the miniscule distance between them and craning his neck down to stare at Blaine in question.

Blaine has to tip his head back to keep the boy's gaze, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows past the lump in his throat, and then Sebastian's hands are cupping his face in a manner that's surprisingly tender, their foreheads meeting and mouths sharing the same air. Everything else around him becomes faded, muted, and all Blaine can sense is the brush of Sebastian's fingers over his skin, the cool metal of the door digging into his back, the fluttering in his own stomach.

"Let it happen," Sebastian whispers. Blaine's eyes slip shut, and after a moment of no sound except the ringing of his heartbeat in his ears and the hushed murmur of Sebastian's breath, he gives in.

"Okay."

Sebastian's mouth descends onto his, then, and it's nothing at all like Blaine has imagined. He had pictured something frantic, heated; or maybe even something angry and desperate, conveying all of the frustration and uncertainty of their past.

But _this_ is something completely different, something Blaine hadn't thought to prepare himself for. The kiss is achingly slow, soft; Sebastian's lips press almost chastely against his, and when they begin to move, it still remains gentle. His mouth tastes of the powdered sugar from the funnel cake they had shared earlier, with the underlying hint of something sharp and minty. The delicacy with which he grasps Blaine's face, the soft sweep of his tongue along Blaine's bottom lip—it's almost too much. Kissing Sebastian is supposed to feel _good,_ but not as earth-shattering as this, as if Blaine could crawl beneath the other boy's skin and stay wrapped up forever, secure and content. It's not supposed to feel like each and every piece of Blaine's life is suddenly slotting into place, just as seamlessly as Sebastian himself had fit in the first place.

It's not supposed to feel like he and Sebastian are meant to be exactly that—_Blaine and Sebastian_. Like nothing mattered up until their lives became so inexplicably intertwined, and like nothing will matter if they ever happen to diverge from one another.

Belatedly, Blaine can feel his body begin to tremble in Sebastian's grip, and the other boy's mouth gradually parts from his as his arms fall to Blaine's waist. Keeping his eyes firmly closed, Blaine tucks his fingers into the fabric of Sebastian's shirt and inhales a shuddering breath to steady himself. No words are spoken, and the quiet envelops them, Sebastian's palms smoothing along Blaine's sides, the trail of his fingers leaving a heated path in their wake.

Seconds pass, possibly minutes, and then Sebastian's mouth is pressed to Blaine's temple and his lips are moving to form words. "We should head home," he murmurs.

Yet, neither them makes any move to extract themselves from the other, and subconsciously, Blaine realizes that his palm has flattened against Sebastian's chest. His heartbeat is unwavering beneath the press of Blaine's fingertips, and they are both obviously desperate to ignore the implications of the action.

Blaine says nothing, but it is the unsaid as always that resonates.

"C'mon." Sebastian's tone is hushed as he takes a slight step backward, hands falling from Blaine's waist and sliding up to run through his hair, his chest rising and falling as he takes a deep breath. Blaine instantly feels cold, the pleasure seeping from his limbs, but he forces himself to ignore the sensation of emptiness and simply turns around to pull open the car door. The familiarity of the leather seat beneath him soothes him somewhat, but does little to calm his suddenly racing mind. The only thought he seems able to wrap his jumbled head around is a menacing one.

_What now?_

He presses his shoulders back into the seat and stares absently out the front windshield, fingers curled loosely against his thighs. Nothing is comprehending at the moment. His carefully constructed world has been thrown off course, any plans of refusing to get involved with Sebastian so far gone that it's as if they weren't really present in the first place.

Which, he realizes, is partially true. Since that first night in June, he and Sebastian have been utterly connected, tangled together in a way that makes it near impossible to escape. Blaine doesn't know who he was kidding, the universe or himself. Keeping his distance has never been an option, as has making it out of this relatively unscathed. He's in too deep, just like Sebastian had said.

And that _scares _him.

"Stop thinking." It's a phrase Sebastian has used repeatedly, and like with every other time, Blaine sighs and tries to push the worry away from the forefront of his mind. Sebastian's door shuts with a _click_ that seems abnormally loud in the stillness of the car, but then he is reaching across the center console to grab a hold of Blaine's hand and the discomfort is gone. When Blaine looks up, Sebastian's attention is focused solely on him. They gaze silently at each other, assessing, until there are suddenly two bodies moving forward, two sets of lips meeting and hands clutching.

It's like the first time. Unhurried, Sebastian takes his time exploring Blaine's mouth with his own, his fingers sliding along each turn and each angle of his body. The console between them makes things slightly awkward, but there is no frantic need to consume, just a mutual longing to hold and be held. Blaine's hands trace the contours of Sebastian's shoulders as the boy grasps gently at his face, his hair, his waist. A mouth is trailing delicately over his jaw, and Blaine brushes his nose along the shell of Sebastian's ear, eliciting a shudder in response. The soft pad of a thumb grazes his hip before they separate, and Blaine blinks, warm and flushed and absolutely _done for_ because _Sebastian_.

"Bas," he whispers, and his voice is raw, cracking on the one syllable nickname. Sebastian's expression is indecipherable, their faces still too close to make out anything besides the freckled bridge of his nose and the sharp lines of his jaw. His hands are still on Blaine, and the moment is intimate. Blaine wants to cradle it between his palms and tuck it away, remember it.

"Done freaking out?" Sebastian questions quietly, and Blaine manages a tiny nod, fingers curling around the back of the boy's neck. He presses the tip of his nose against Sebastian's, nudging gently, while attempting to find his voice.

"We're doing this," he murmurs.

It isn't a question.

"Guess so." And Sebastian is smiling, the smallest tip of his mouth upwards, and Blaine is absolutely sure.

They're doing this.

* * *

A light knock on his bedroom door awakens him, and Blaine's eyes flutter open to the faintest hint of sunlight filtering in through the curtains. The clock on his bedside table reads 12:47. He's slept in through lunch, he notes absently as he sits up in bed and pats a hand to the mass of curls sitting atop his head. In reality, though, he hasn't slept that much; he and Sebastian didn't get back until close to three in the morning, and it took Blaine a good hour after that to fall asleep.

Sebastian.

"_Are you sure you need to head back tonight?" _

_They're on Blaine's porch, tucked into the corner by the door under the weak glow of the overhead light. He keeps his voice hushed, wary of his parents sleeping just on the other side of the wall, and peers up at Sebastian, who lets out a quiet laugh. The question hadn't even been meant as a suggestive one, and they both know it, but Sebastian's lips still curl at the edges as he traces the curve of Blaine's jaw with his thumb._

"_I'll be fine, B. I'm not even tired yet."_

_Recognizing a lost cause, Blaine exhales in defeat and lowers his eyes. "I worry too much."_

_Sebastian's smile just widens. "So I've told you."_

_Blaine ignores the statement and raises his head again, one eyebrow arching inquiringly. "You gonna kiss me goodnight or what?"_

"_Demanding," Sebastian comments, and Blaine goes to protest, but his mouth is soon occupied. It would be a problem, except for how it's not._

He emerges from his thoughts as a knock sounds again from the door, and he finally calls out a gruff, "come in!"

His mother pokes her head in the doorway as he crosses his legs underneath himself, already reaching for his phone. She smiles softly when Blaine looks up, and he offers a hesitant smile in return, which she takes as her cue to move further into the room.

"Late night?" She asks curiously. Blaine can instantly feel the pleased flush creeping up his neck and merely nods, passing his phone aimlessly back and forth between his fingers.

"Not like _that,_ mom. But yeah. I was out with Bas."

His mother laughs, which only causes his blush to deepen. "Sebastian?" She clarifies. Blaine hums in confirmation. "You two have grown close."

"Yeah." He doesn't elaborate; his mother most definitely doesn't need to know that the boy he's been hanging around with is also the same one that nearly blinded him over a year ago.

It's not important anymore.

"Well, I just came up to tell you that Cooper called. He was asking about you," she says. Blaine's eyebrows shoot up at that, eyes widening slightly. Since when has Cooper taken any interest in him? "He thinks it would be good for you to head out and visit him before starting school in the fall."

The words have Blaine's stomach dropping to his feet, the curious smile falling immediately from his face. After everything that's occurred with Sebastian, his family has been the last thing on his mind. Only now does he realize that he still has to break the news to them that he _isn't_ going to school, much less UCLA, in the same city where his brother currently resides. And his mother looks so goddamn _excited_ over the idea of her two sons spending "quality time" together.

Blaine has the sudden urge to slam his head against a wall.

"I—I wouldn't want to impose," he stutters out, tongue fumbling against the roof of his mouth. "I'm sure Cooper has other things to do than show his kid brother around LA."

"Nonsense, Blaine! Cooper is the one who insisted. He wants to see you," she exclaims, and Blaine has to shrink away from the hopeful look on her face. "Your father and I have already started looking at airfare. There are some cheap flights at the beginning of August."

That's that, really. All Blaine can do is nod his head in defeat and try to ignore the guilt curling in his stomach when his mother leans down to press a kiss to his cheek before exiting the room.

What the hell is he going to tell Cooper?

* * *

"My parents are sending me to Los Angeles."

Sebastian's fingers still their movements through Blaine's hair, his head swiveling down to meet Blaine's gaze in confusion. The two of them are sprawled across Sebastian's bed, some irrelevant movie playing on the screen in front of them, and Blaine's head rests against Sebastian's chest. Their fingers sit intertwined on Blaine's stomach, where Blaine has been absently tracing the rough skin of Sebastian's palm for the better part of an hour as the boy's free hand strokes over Blaine's curls. The loss of pressure against his scalp nearly has Blaine whining in displeasure, but he bites his tongue in favor of continuing with his explanation.

"Coop wants me to come visit," he adds, and Sebastian's features soften somewhat. He nudges Blaine's foot lightly with his own.

"What's so bad about that?"

"They think I'm going to UCLA," Blaine mumbles, extracting himself from Sebastian and maneuvering himself into an upright position. "So does Cooper. What am I supposed to tell them?"

"The truth?" Sebastian suggests unhelpfully, and Blaine glares. "Seriously, Blaine, you'll have to tell them eventually."

And isn't _that_ the fucking kicker. "I know," Blaine grouses, drawing his legs up to his chest. "It's just—they're going to be so disappointed, Bas."

"Of course they are," Sebastian says softly, leaning forward and drawing one of Blaine's hands between his own. His fingers run soothingly across Blaine's knuckles as he speaks, voice low. "But there's a difference between disappointment and hatred. And they're not going to _hate_ you."

A choked laugh escapes Blaine's throat, and he stares down at their joined hands in resignation. "Why are you so good at that?"

Sebastian's head tips to one side, a bewildered grin appearing on his face. "Good at what?"

Blaine shrugs. "Figuring me out."

Smile dimming into something fonder, Sebastian tugs at his hand gently until he reluctantly slips closer on the bed so that the boy can tip his chin up with one finger. "Someone has to be, right?"

The breath _whooshes_ out of Blaine's lungs, mouth opening but no words coming out. Sebastian's palm is a solid weight against his own, and all he can think to do is lean upwards and press their mouths together as something warm and familiar settles in his chest.

As they part for air, Sebastian huffs out a startled chuckle against his lips, giving Blaine's hand a light squeeze. "What was that for?"

"...Inviting me to your graduation," he decides after a moment.

Something in Sebastian's gaze simply melts, and then the boy is grasping his shoulders and pulling him down onto the bed into a tangle of limbs, their lips meeting somewhere in the middle.


	6. Part Six

_notes- _Have I mentioned that you all are fabulous? Because you really are. Enjoy this chapter, I hope it doesn't disappoint!

* * *

**Part Six**

* * *

At some point between the random day trips with Sebastian, the kissing, and the constant fluttering in Blaine's stomach, it occurs to him that July has come and gone and faded into August.

August. One more month.

His flight out to Los Angeles is scheduled for the fifth, and he's set to stay with Cooper for a week, until the twelfth. Sebastian's fall semester begins the Tuesday after Labor Day, but he has to be in the dorms by Friday the thirtieth. That leaves less than three weeks between the time Blaine gets back from California and the time Sebastian heads off to school.

Blaine's trying desperately not to think about it.

He's also terrified to even bring it up, unwilling to spoil the short time they have left. Even though he _knows_ they need to talk about it, talk about what's going to happen, because they might be whatever they are now, but they're also friends, and Blaine can't let Sebastian leave at the end of the month without at least knowing where they stand first.

He already knows that it's going to hurt when Sebastian leaves. Not just hurt, but rip him in two, carve out a hole in his chest and leave him gasping as the boy boards a plane for New York. But he's attempting to brace himself, always reminding himself that _he's going to leave, you can't forget that,_ as if it will actually do any good. And Blaine can tell that his other friends are worried, too; he's seen Tina twice since their group get-together after the Fourth of July, and both times were filled with her sympathetic looks. At one point, she'd even spoken up.

"_Are you sure you know what you're doing, Blaine?"_

_Tina is staring at him through wide, imploring eyes, and Blaine has to resist the urge to squirm beneath her gaze. He's sure that she already knows the answer._

"_I'm not saying that it won't work," she states, after an extended minute of silence. "But I'm just worried about you. Remember how I was after Mike left? It's definitely not easy, and I would just hate to see you hurting like that."_

_Head bowed, Blaine smooths his palms uselessly down his thighs before speaking. "Tina..." he sighs. "It's—I know it's going to kill me when he leaves. Probably even worse than it was when Kurt left. But...I'll take what I can get, you know?"_

"_I have to say...I never saw this coming," she supplies. The comment causes a wistful, nearly sad smile to appear on Blaine's face._

"_Yeah, well, neither did I."_

It's like a time bomb has been planted in the back of his mind, counting down the precious moments until reality will slap him upside the head because _time's up._ And he can't do anything more than let it happen, trying pathetically to prepare himself for when the bomb detonates. The destruction it will leave behind is going to be enormous, but Blaine thinks that Sebastian might be worth it. A short amount of time is better than none at all.

The day before he is due to leave for Los Angeles, Sebastian shows up on his front stoop sometime during mid-morning, his hair ruffled and clothing askew. Blaine bites back his surprise, because Sebastian hadn't even texted him to tell him he was coming—not that Blaine is complaining—and looks a bit like he'd rushed over right after climbing out of bed. With a confused tilt of his head, Blaine pulls him into the house and gently shuts the door behind them.

"What are you doing here?"

Sebastian's grin is slightly embarrassed, one hand rising to scrub sheepishly at the back of his neck before he answers. "I was going to call first, but..." he shrugs. "You're leaving tomorrow."

Blinking in shock, all Blaine can say is, "it's only for a week."

With a pointed look, Sebastian sighs and then rolls his bottom lip in between his teeth. "You're leaving for a week, B."

And then Blaine _gets _it. His mouth falls open, then snaps shut again, and the action probably has him resembling a gaping fish. The emotion that swells in his chest rises sharply, threatening to cut off his air, and he has to clear his throat before he can speak again, because _Sebastian is going to miss him_ and has obviously been thinking about their time remaining together, too.

Once again, a full explanation isn't needed. Comprehension washes over Blaine's face, leaving Sebastian to finally relax as well. Blaine reaches out and snags the boy's wrist, tugging him up the stairs as quickly as he can manage and only releasing him when they are safely encased in Blaine's bedroom. From there, Sebastian drops down to sit on the edge of the bed with Blaine hovering carefully in front of him, gazing down with a thoughtful look.

"We need to talk about this," Sebastian finally murmurs, and Blaine knows that, he does, but he just _can't _right now.

He can't.

"I know," he agrees quietly. "Just...not now. Please."

Sebastian's palms find their way to Blaine's waist, where they grasp gently and then pull him forward so that Blaine is standing more fully between his legs. His features soften, fingers slipping beneath the hem of Blaine's shirt to stroke absently over his hipbones, before he speaks again. "We're so fucked, Blaine."

And the only thing Blaine can think to do is silence him, so he lightly presses Sebastian's shoulders back into the bed and follows him down, fitting their bodies together before he does something ridiculous like cry, or say something they aren't ready for yet. Or both.

He skims his fingertips along Sebastian's chest and allows his lips to linger against the boy's neck, spelling out words into his tanned skin.

"Let it happen," he whispers shakily, and then Sebastian is clutching at him, rolling them over until Blaine is settled beneath the weight of his spread body. Their limbs slot together effortlessly, Sebastian holding himself up on his elbows as he stares down at Blaine with that unreadable look on his face. The pad of his thumb traces the curve of Blaine's jaw, the shell of his hear, the jut of his chin, and all Blaine can hear is the erratic beating of his own heart as Sebastian lets his hands say what both of them are afraid to put into words.

* * *

LAX is uncomfortably crowded for Blaine's taste. The hustle and bustle of people around him, constantly knocking into his shoulder as they remain absorbed in their own worlds, is enough to put him off from Los Angeles almost instantly, and he clutches his carry-on close to his chest as he emerges from the arrivals area. He spots Cooper quickly, his brother decked out as per usual in his leather jacket and sunglasses. Blaine's own polo and jeans ensemble feels ridiculous in comparison, but he shoves down the feeling of inadequacy as best he can. Cooper wants him here, after all—or at least he supposedly does.

"What's up, little brother?" Cooper calls out as he approaches, immediately pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Blaine wheezes somewhat awkwardly as the breath is knocked from his lungs before hesitantly returning the hug, the display of affection throwing him off slightly.

"Hey Coop," he responds at last as they separate. His brother's gaze travels down and then back up again, assessing, before his grin widens and he loops an arm around Blaine's shoulder to lead him out of the terminal.

"You look good, squirt. Older. I'm glad you finally decided to ditch the bow tie."

With a huff, Blaine shoves at his brother's side. "Who wears a bow tie on an airplane? I packed a few for good measure, though, so don't get your hopes up."

Cooper rolls his eyes. "Just when I thought you had finally become a refined young gentleman. What are mom and dad teaching you back in Ohio?"

Blaine laughs despite himself and shakes his head. "This is what you get for leaving me with them."

They've reached Cooper's car by now, and pause in front of the hood, Cooper's eyes narrowing seriously as he reaches out to grasp Blaine's shoulder. "Blaine, you know I didn't..." his voice trails off while his eyes fill with the hint of remorse, and Blaine nervously adjusts his duffle strap on his shoulder before replying.

"Coop, it's fine. We've talked about this," he says quietly. Cooper finally nods, and then the two of them climb into the car, Blaine depositing his bag on the backseat. Less than ten minutes in and things are already growing heavy. He has no idea how he's going to survive an entire week, at this rate.

The freeway is clogged with traffic, probably typical for an afternoon in Los Angeles, and he can indeed see the outline of the smog, brown and murky against the hills on the horizon. The disappointment is quickly settling in Blaine's stomach, and he hasn't even _seen_ the rest of the city yet. It's almost crushing, the realization that Los Angeles and all its Hollywood glamour aren't enough for Blaine. The tiniest part of him had been hoping that maybe, just maybe, he'd fall in love with the city and figure out, _hey, this is where I should come in the fall. This is it for me._

But it's not. That is immediately evident, if the disdain Blaine has for all of the people and cars and buildings is anything to go by. Cooper is quiet in the seat beside him, humming along to some god awful rap song that is coming from the speakers, and Blaine is hit with a sudden pang of longing for it to be Sebastian next to him, crowing along obnoxiously to Ke$ha's latest hit while shooting Blaine a blinding grin. Tugging his phone out of his pocket, Blaine quickly types out a message to the aforementioned boy and then huddles up against the window, blocking Cooper's presence out completely.

_From: Blaine_

_Save me._

He doesn't have to wait long for a response.

_From: Sebastian_

_Give him a break, B. You just got there. At least try and have a good time?_

_From: Blaine:_

_Not possible._

_From: Sebastian_

_Talk to Cooper, Blaine. I'll call you tonight._

With a sigh, Blaine drops his phone into his lap and darts a glance over towards his brother, whose attention is focused solely on the road. A spike of curiosity hits him suddenly, and he blurts, "why'd you invite me, Coop?"

His brother's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline in surprise, but Blaine can tell that he is struggling to form a proper response. His mouth twists thoughtfully, and his hand slides up to push his sunglasses up his forehead and into his hair. "What, I can't want a bit of quality time with my little brother?"

"We haven't spent quality time together since I was ten," Blaine retorts sharply, his fingers twitching against his denim-clad thighs. He hadn't meant to drag the conversation's focus back to his brother's absence, but here he is, doing it anyway. Cooper's entire expression falls, and Blaine mentally curses himself, hastening to add, "I'm sorry. That's not the point. I just...don't really know why I'm here."

He watches as Cooper's jaw clenches before he speaks. "Look, Blaine, I thought you could use a break, alright? I know how mom and dad get sometimes, and you're going off to school in the fall...I guess I wanted us to at least pretend to be brothers for a little while longer. I'm not expecting anything. If you need to talk, though...well. I'm here."

As his brother finishes ranting, Blaine finds himself at a loss for words. Cooper had never been the supportive or understanding type; it was always "look how great I am," or "no, you're doing that wrong." Blaine had never measured up, and Cooper's accomplishments always seemed to overshadow his own, leaving no room for any type of meaningful words or encouragement. The fact that Cooper straight up _invited him to Los Angeles_ just to see and talk to him...the thought has Blaine's eyes watering suddenly, and he briskly looks away. No doubt his brother will laugh if he sees.

_You're such a girl, _Sebastian's voice taunts, and Blaine manages a shaky inhale before furiously wiping his eyes and turning back to Cooper.

"Coop..." he begins, struggling over his words. "I...thank you. That's actually...really cool of you."

"Yeah, well, I may not be winning any 'world's greatest brother' awards, but I'm trying," Cooper concedes, shooting Blaine a small smile. "And like I said, I want you to talk to me. That's what siblings do, right? By the end of the week, we're going to know all of each other's deepest, darkest, secrets."

His voice is teasing, but a part of Blaine twists anxiously at the mention of sharing his thoughts. He still has no idea how to come clean with Cooper and admit that he has no plans for the fall; he's sure that his brother will immediately relay the news on to their parents, and that's something he surely isn't ready to deal with yet.

However, it's only a matter of time now until they find out, and with he and Cooper finally on the same page (at least in some respects), his nerves have lessened somewhat. Maybe his brother will understand. Maybe he'll help talk some sense into mom and dad, and give Blaine some options to consider for the fall.

Blaine can hope, right?

* * *

"Survive your first day in the real world?" Sebastian greets him. It's about nine o'clock at night in California, and Blaine had excused himself from watching some House re-run with Cooper so that he could head to the guestroom and call Sebastian before it got any later back home. Now he is curled up on the old full-size bed in Cooper's spare room, his cheek pressed to the pillow and his phone against his ear. Sebastian's voice instantly puts a smile on his face, and he draws his legs up slightly so that he is folded into a ball.

"Ohio is the real world," he protests, listening to Sebastian's scoff on the other end of the line. "Well, sort of."

"This state is meaningless, Blaine," the boy declares. "Now answer my question."

"It's been okay, actually," Blaine murmurs honestly. "Cooper and I kind of talked, and it's—well, it's not horribly awkward. We'll get there."

"Good." A yawn abruptly filters through the speaker, and Blaine finds himself laughing quietly to himself.

"Long day?"

"I suppose," Sebastian responds. "It dragged a bit."

Blaine automatically hears the unspoken words, _without you here,_ and he has to muffle his grin against the pillow as his insides warm considerably. "I know what you mean."

When Sebastian speaks again, his voice is softer, a rough mumble into Blaine's ear. "Can I pick you up when you get back?"

"Yeah," Blaine replies quietly, fingertips fiddling with the edge of the comforter beneath him. They lapse into a companionable silence, Sebastian's breathing growing shallow as it huffs into the receiver. Blaine can tell that he's probably half-asleep, but he's still reluctant to end the call, content to simply lay with the sounds of _Sebastian_ filtering through the phone.

"Still there?" Sebastian murmurs after awhile, and Blaine hums his confirmation as he maneuvers himself beneath the blankets to get more comfortable. The clock beside him reads _10:04,_ but Sebastian's own exhaustion has transferred over to him and left him drained, the travel and worry over Cooper finally catching up to him. He tucks the phone in closer to his ear and rolls so that he is on his back and facing the ceiling.

"You can go to sleep, you know. I don't wanna keep you up," Blaine says softly.

"Don't care," Sebastian murmurs, another yawn breaking off of the last word. "I'll just sleep in tomorrow."

"Bas," he protests, only to be cut off by a sigh from the other boy.

"Blaine," Sebastian replies, the exasperation evident in his voice. "I wanna talk to you, so get over it."

The statement causes Blaine's stomach to swoop, his heart ricocheting against the inside of his chest. "You miss me," he sing-songs into the phone, and although Sebastian neither confirms nor denies the assumption, his embarrassed chuckle is the only answer Blaine needs.

Sebastian _misses_ him; the concept shouldn't have Blaine feeling as pleased as he does.

"You wish," Sebastian counters, and the grin on Blaine's face only widens.

* * *

The next few days are spent touring various parts of Los Angeles with Cooper, viewing the packed beaches and fancy shops downtown. Blaine is actually enjoying himself, allowing his mind to be swept up in the chaos of his brother's life and pushing away any other thoughts. He falls asleep each night to the sound of Sebastian's breath in the phone, and wakes up to some ridiculous text message that generally includes the words _good morning_ and then a lewd joke. By his second to last day in the city, Blaine is utterly exhausted, and as soon as they return to Cooper's place that night, he is ready to collapse into bed.

Unfortunately, Cooper has other plans.

He corners Blaine in the kitchen while Blaine is filling himself a glass of water, and he startles when he spins around to find Cooper watching him from the other side of the island. Swallowing nervously, he offers his brother a hesitant smile and then makes to leave the room.

"Not so fast, squirt. Who is he?"

"Who's who?" Blaine retorts, blinking and trying futilely to play the innocent card. Of course, Cooper isn't having any of it, and simply rolls his eyes before elaborating.

"Your new man friend. I figured that must be the case, because who else would you be up talking to all hours of the night?"

Blaine's shoulders slump as he clutches his glass of water tightly, a flush climbing up his neck. "You can hear all that?"

His brother lets out a bark of laughter before shaking his head, much to Blaine's relief. "I can't make out words, but I can hear your voice most of the time. These walls are pretty thin."

Hesitantly lifting the cup to his mouth, Blaine downs a slow sip of water and then sets the glass carefully onto the counter, where he leans directly across from Cooper. Contemplating his response for a long moment, he folds his arms across his chest. "He isn't my...man friend, or whatever you called him."

Cooper arches a brow. "Oh? Then what is he?"

"He's my...my..." Blaine pauses, rolling his lower lip in between his teeth in thought. What is Sebastian, exactly? His friend? His boyfriend? All or none of the above? "I don't know. We haven't labeled things."

A wrinkle appears in Cooper's forehead as he stares thoughtfully at Blaine, his head tipping to one side. "He's important to you, though."

There's no sense in lying. With a shrug, Blaine glances down at his feet. "You could say that."

"Can I at least know his name?" Cooper inquires. "That way I can have something to go off of if I ever need to hunt him down for breaking your heart."

A rough chuckle leaves Blaine's throat, his mouth quirking up into a wry smile. "Not going to be necessary, Coop. I sort of...knew what I was getting myself into. It would by my own fault."

"Your vagueness is sort of freaking me out, you know," Cooper declares, coming around the edge of the counter to stand directly in front of Blaine. Tilting his head back to meet his brother's gaze, Blaine has to resist the urge to wither beneath the concern in his eyes. He's so unused to seeing it there. "Who is this guy?"

Forcing his throat to work, Blaine opens his mouth and answers, "Sebastian. Sebastian Smythe. He's...he went to Dalton, after I had already transferred. We sort of reconnected when I was at their graduation back in May."

Cooper _hmm's_ in consideration, his eyes narrowing slightly. There is a moment where Blaine is struck by the notion that _what if Cooper knows Sebastian_, but the fear quickly fades when he realizes Cooper is merely assessing the name in a way only Cooper can do.

"And he's going to school in the fall?"

He couldn't hide his flinch, even if he tried to. "Yeah...Columbia."

Blaine knows where this conversation is heading. Cooper is going to lecture him about long-distance relationships, or summer flings, or a combination of the two, and all of Blaine's worries will be uncovered, and then he'll end up spilling the truth to his brother about the entire situation. His brother will be shocked, then angry, and then he'll most likely end up calling their parents. Blaine will arrive home the day after tomorrow to a crying mother and stoic father, and he'll have to face Sebastian after all his previous insecurities have been brought back to the surface, and his life is just going to _suck._

Except that's not how it happens at all. Well, not exactly.

"New York, huh?" Cooper leans back against the counter, crossing his feet at the ankles and peering over at Blaine with a knowing look in his eyes. All Blaine can do is nod, his gaze dropping to a random stain on the tiled floor. It's much easier than facing his brother, who has probably already made the connection between Kurt and New York and Sebastian, the eerie similarity between both situations. In fact, Blaine hasn't really thought about it himself until now—how the first boy he'd ever loved had left him for New York, and how this other boy he doesn't even know how to refer to is about to do the same thing.

But, if Blaine is being honest, that's where the parallel both begins and ends. Sebastian and Kurt are two points on opposite ends of a spectrum, leaving Blaine balancing delicately in the middle. On one side lies Kurt and his promises, his words, now broken and void, and on the other is Sebastian, who guarantees Blaine nothing but still gives him everything. Sebastian is still unlabeled in Blaine's book, more of a floating fixture than a permanent one, and perhaps that's the thing—Sebastian has never promised Blaine _anything._ He's never uttered about _forever_ or their future, a safety precaution so that _he'll never have any promises to break._

Sebastian hasn't spoken of New York for the same reasons Blaine hasn't—he doesn't want to put himself in a position where he'll end up saying things that turn out to be lies when all is said and done. He is protecting Blaine, in a way; keeping him grounded, reminding him that no matter what, he's going to leave in September, and that he can't give Blaine anything for sure beyond that. It's a solemn reality, but one that Blaine has known of since the very beginning. It is only now, with Cooper at his side, that a sense of _real _acceptance washes over him.

"I know what you're thinking," he says quietly, earning a questioning look from Cooper. "You're thinking that as soon as he leaves, it's going to be like Kurt all over again. But...Bas, he isn't Kurt. He never promised me anything. I knew from the start that he was leaving, and I've remembered that all along."

"That doesn't make it any easier," Cooper murmurs, and Blaine has to nod, because how can he deny that?

"It's going to suck," he agrees, staring down into his water glass. "But it has to happen. I'm not deluding myself this time around."

He's not going to formulate some sort of fantasy in his head, a happily-ever-after where he follows Sebastian to New York, or runs into him in five years, and it's as if nothing has changed. He's not going to concoct the perfect plan, ideas of running a fucking _artist's colony,_ and he's not going to mope pathetically when Sebastian doesn't call.

He can't let himself do that again.

Cooper's voice eventually draws him out of his resigned thoughts, and it's the question that has haunted Blaine for three months now, finally in some essence put into words. "Does he know you'll be out here in LA?"

Blaine draws a long, sharp breath into his lungs, his eyes fluttering shut as he braces himself to answer. Cooper waits patiently at his side, and it's all Blaine can do to stomp down the anxiety in his chest and just _say it._ "Actually, Coop, I'm...not coming to UCLA in the fall."

His brother's expression morphs into one of genuine confusion as he asks, "then where are you going?"

"I'm not," Blaine admits in a rush, and then, realizing that he isn't making any sense, has to clarify. "Going anywhere, I mean. I never commit to a school."

Cooper immediately falls silent. It's so out-of-character that after a prolonged period of quiet, Blaine's hands start trembling, and he has to swallow around the nervous lump forming in his throat. He waits with bated breath as his brother processes the statement, and it might be the longest three minutes of Blaine's life.

Just as he's about ready to panic, his brother speaks. His voice is low, stoic. "What were you _thinking,_ Blaine?"

"I—I wasn't," comes Blaine's meek reply. "Coop, I know it was dumb, but I—"

"But _what,_ Blaine? You're not going to college! That's...it's crazy. How did this even happen? Do mom and dad know, or have you been lying to them, too?"

Every question strikes Blaine like a knife to the gut, his body slumping as he cowers in on himself and turns away from his brother's judging gaze. He had known that Cooper was going to disappointed and upset, but he hadn't expected this much _anger,_ the fire in his brother's eyes as he spouts off enraged words.

"How the _fuck_ do you not commit to a school, Blaine? You've always been so...organized! Dedicated! You have so many opportunities in front of you, and you're throwing them away for—for what? _Ohio?_ Don't tell me you plan on staying there."

"Coop...Cooper!" Blaine finally snaps, earning his brother's attention as his rant dies out and his gaze settles on Blaine's own. They simply stare at each other for a moment, Cooper's chest heaving and Blaine's eyes stinging from the pressure that is building behind them. He attempts to compose himself, inhaling deeply before speaking. "I don't need you to lecture me, okay? I know I messed up. _I know._ But—you can't tell mom and dad, okay? Not yet. That's something I need to do myself. And as for what I'm going to do, I honestly don't know. I'm not opting out of school completely, if that's what you're thinking. I'll just have to...re-apply next year or something. It's—I'll be fine. I can stay in Lima for another year, get a job or something, and then when I get in somewhere again, I can figure it out..."

"I'm not going to tell mom and dad," Cooper interrupts. Blaine jerks his head up, relief flooding through him and causing him to relax his stance somewhat. "But you have to know they're going to be _pissed._ I'm—I hardly even know what to say to you right now, and I'm just your deadbeat brother."

Blaine's forehead creases with guilt as he clenches his eyes shut, arms wrapping around his middle. "You're not a deadbeat, Coop. And I _know_ I've disappointed you, but...I could really use some help with this whole mess. Someone who's on my side."

The plea hangs in the air, Blaine's voice cracking on the last syllable, and then he has no other options but to wait. He's finally laid everything on the line, told the truth, and all he can do is hope that Cooper _understands,_ that he'll want to help his baby brother get his life back on track.

Blaine isn't sure what he'll do if Cooper says no.

What he really wants to do is call Sebastian, climb into his makeshift bed and sob into the phone as Sebastian murmurs pointless reassurances down the line. But this conversation isn't finished yet, and Blaine needs to stick it out. His brother does, too. He and Cooper owe each other that much.

It seems like an eternity passes, the angry flush slowly fading from Cooper's face and his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "I'm not 'on your side,'" he starts, and Blaine's entire being freezes, preparing to accept defeat, until his brother continues. "But I can't punish you for this. You've done that on your own just by putting yourself in this situation. So...I'll do what I can, Blaine. I'll help you look at some other options, maybe a community college...I don't know. And I can try and talk some sense into mom and dad after you break the news to them. But _don't_ think that I'm happy about this."

Somewhere between the gratitude that slams into him and the abrupt urge he gets to hug his brother and never let go, it occurs to Blaine that Cooper has never sounded so much like an adult before. His brother has never been the rational or forgiving type, and for him to be so level-headed...

It's sort of hard to fathom.

"Thanks," Blaine whispers, his mouth curving up into a small, grateful smile. "Really, Coop. Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." Pushing himself away from the counter, Cooper levels a pointed look in Blaine's direction and then moves past him, briskly leaving the room.

Overall, it could have gone a lot worse.


	7. Part Seven

_notes- _Is it strange that I'm insanely excited to post the last few chapters of this? Your guys' response has just been amazing. I literally cannot thank you enough. The final chapter will be up by the weekend, so review, do whatever you want. You're all fabulous. :D

* * *

**Part Seven**

* * *

Just over twenty-four hours later, Blaine is waving goodbye to his brother at the airport and boarding a plane back to Columbus. He texts Sebastian after he is settled in at his gate to let him know that the plane should arrive on time, and then digs out his iPod to kill some time while he waits.

His final day with Cooper had been surprisingly uneventful. They had touched upon the subject of Blaine possibly taking a few classes at Lima Community College, just to get some of his credits out of the way before re-applying the following year and transferring to a four-year school. It's not the most prestigious option, but it _is_ something, and after his talk with Cooper, Blaine has come to realize that he really isn't a complete failure. A lot of people take a year off before attending college, and it may not be ideal, but there are things Blaine can do in the extra time.

Now it's just a matter of explaining everything to his parents.

He spends the flight home dozing in and out of consciousness, the thoughts swirling around madly inside his head. It's difficult to pin any one thing down, too many possibilities and worries crammed together all at once, and the only thing that manages to keep Blaine sane is the text message he receives as soon as his plane lands back in Ohio and he turns on his phone.

_From: Sebastian_

_See you soon._

It takes every ounce of his willpower not to shove through the crowds as soon as he's stepped off the plane, the reality that he is minutes away from seeing Sebastian invoking so much anticipation within him that's he's nearly jogging through the terminal. A few deep breaths and he can manage a more reasonable pace, keeping his strides to walking speed as he emerges into the arrivals area and immediately begins scanning the crowd for a familiar head of brown hair.

And there is Sebastian, standing a head taller than everyone else in a Dalton Lacrosse shirt and cargo shorts, feet shoved into a pair of leather sandals and hands tucked into his pockets. The sight of him sends Blaine's heart skittering around in his chest, and he practically stops dead in the middle of the walkway, only moving forward when Sebastian suddenly spots him and straightens up, his entire face breaking out into a wide smile.

Blaine's pretty sure he stops breathing for a second.

Moments later, Sebastian is in front of him, and they merely stare at each other, Blaine's fingers gripping his duffle strap tightly as he resists the urge to throw himself into Sebastian's arms. The idiotic smile on his own face is bad enough, his cheeks flushing as the other boy's attention never diverges from him. Finally, after another uncomfortable beat of simply looking, Sebastian speaks.

"Can I—" he begins, cutting himself off when Blaine lets out a bright laugh and nods his head.

"Yeah," he responds breathlessly. The bag slips from his shoulder just as Sebastian closes the remaining distance between them and tugs Blaine forward against his chest, his arms circling the smaller boy's frame. Blaine buries his face against the side of Sebastian's neck and clutches at his waist, inhaling the scent of sweat and spicy cologne and _Sebastian_, and he may have only been gone for a week, but it feels like a hole in his chest has suddenly been filled.

They finally separate, but Sebastian's hands remain on Blaine's biceps, squeezing gently. "Hey," he greets, and the blinding grin is still in place, causing the skin next to his eyes to crinkle up in the most adorable manner. And if the thought of Sebastian being _adorable_ doesn't show just how far gone Blaine is, then it's possible nothing will.

"Hi." His own dopey smile is starting to make the muscles in his cheeks ache, but he can't seem to force it away. It comforts him to know that Sebastian appears to be equally excited.

After another minute spent staring at each other, Sebastian ducks his head and drops his hands from Blaine's arm, scratching sheepishly at the back of his own neck. He chuckles nervously and then straightens up once more, holding out a hand for Blaine's bag. "I'm parked in the visitor's lot. Come on."

As they exit the terminal, Blaine becomes engrossed in telling Sebastian about his time in Los Angeles, sharing stories of Cooper's antics and the various places they had visited. Sebastian seems particularly amused at the mention of them following one of those "maps to the stars' homes," after Cooper had insisted, since it was the classic "tourist" move. _You are a tourist, after all,_ he had declared through a smarmy grin, earning a not-so-gentle punch in the shoulder from Blaine.

Eventually they reach Sebastian's car, and Blaine stops talking long enough to slip into the passenger's seat, his eyes closing as the familiarity of the vehicle embraces him. When he opens his eyes again, Sebastian is watching him in amusement, and Blaine merely shrugs before sinking back further into the seat.

"What?" He asks self-consciously.

Sebastian hums noncommittally and turns his gaze back to the front windshield as he sticks the keys into the ignition. The car rumbles to life beneath them, and Blaine rolls his eyes at the way Sebastian brushes off the topic, moving his own attention to the window. They are both quiet for the duration of the drive back to Westerville, Sebastian not even bothering to ask whether Blaine plans on going all the way back to Lima yet (which, of course, he isn't—and Sebastian obviously knows this). They reach the Smythe household in just under half an hour, and Blaine has hardly made it out of the car when a pair of hands is abruptly tugging him forward, and he crashes into Sebastian's chest, laughing quietly when the boy's arms have to wrap around his waist in order to steady him.

"Um," Blaine says eloquently, lifting his head and meeting Sebastian's eyes. Sebastian chuckles, and then dips his head down to capture Blaine's lips, effectively quieting any other attempt at formulating words. Blaine lets out an _mmf_ in surprise at the first press of a warm mouth against his own but soon surrenders himself to Sebastian's body, curling his fingers beneath the boy's jaw just so he has something to do with his hands.

Sebastian pulls away a few seconds later, breath shallow and hair mussed. His eyes are alight with contentment, a pleased smile crossing his face, and Blaine's heart thumps painfully against his chest.

"I realized I hadn't done that yet," Sebastian explains. The words cause Blaine's own mouth to quirk up at the corners, and he ignores the fluttering in his stomach in favor of voicing a sarcastic response.

"You definitely missed me."

"Oh, shut up, it's not like you didn't miss me too," Sebastian counters, and Blaine just fucking _grins,_ reaching up to grasp the back of Sebastian's neck and pull him down for another kiss. They're essentially making out right in the middle of Sebastian's driveway, where anyone could see, but Blaine finds himself just _not caring_. He only has three more weeks of this, and he plans to make the most of it.

* * *

That night, Sebastian tries to make him dinner.

The pot on the stove for the pasta boils over, and the burned garlic bread leaves the entire house reeking of smoke, and Blaine spends a good twenty minutes crying himself with laughter in the corner. Meanwhile, Sebastian glares at him and then proceeds to stare dejectedly at the ruined meal, and he looks so pathetic that Blaine can't resist planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth and thanking him for the (completely failed) attempt.

And then they order pizza.

* * *

On the twentieth, Sebastian sings to him.

Well, not really _to_ him, but more just sings in general. Blaine arrives at his house in the afternoon and finds Sebastian seated by the pool out back, button down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a guitar on his lap. He is murmuring along softly to whatever tune he is strumming, the back of his neck glistening with sweat as he hunches over the instrument, and Blaine simply stares, stopped dead in his tracks next to the gate he had walked through seconds before. He can't make out what song Sebastian is playing, but his voice is quiet and rough and _perfect._

If possible, Blaine falls even harder in that moment.

He slowly crosses the yard, clearing his throat once he's a few feet away, and Sebastian immediately stops playing and looks up. His voice dies off and then he's grinning, watching as Blaine drops down into the lounge chair next to him.

"Playing for all the adoring fans?" Blaine inquires, motioning to the empty yard around them. Sebastian laughs and shakes his head, turning back to his guitar and fiddling with a few of the strings.

"Of course. I need to please my public, don't I?" He glances up again and winks, and Blaine extends his leg far enough to nudge at Sebastian's calf with his foot as he smiles, tipping his head to the side.

"Well, don't stop on my account," comes his response. He drops his hands to his sides and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as Sebastian raises a brow at him and then readjusts the guitar, giving it a few experimental strums.

"Any requests?" He asks, and after Blaine shakes his head, he takes a minute to consider his options before gripping the neck of the instrument and starting to play.

The first few chords don't seem to jostle Blaine's memory, but he continues to listen intently, and when he finally recognizes the song, it's as if his heart has lodged somewhere in his throat. He's not very familiar with the tune, but he's heard it enough times that the words permeate, Sebastian's gentle voice enveloping him and leaving him at a loss for words.

_Even the best fall down sometimes  
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme  
Out of the doubt that fills my mind  
I somehow find  
You and I collide_

August twentieth. Sebastian is leaving in exactly ten days, and they still haven't discussed it. Blaine knows that putting the conversation off is only going to make things worse, but just the thought of Sebastian's departure is growing more and more unbearable by the day. He thinks about having to stay in Lima without having Sebastian to visit every day, without his witty text messages coming at all hours of the day, and he wants to shrivel up and hide. A life without Sebastian constantly in it sounds so utterly unappealing that Blaine can't even fathom it.

But as Sebastian's voice washes over him, the lyrics to _Collide _resonating through every part of Blaine's being, he realizes that he can't put this off any longer. They need to talk, define their relationship and where they're going to stand when Sebastian drives off to Columbia in a little over a week, and they need to do it now.

Before Blaine falls completely (but he's pretty sure it's too late for that).

The song comes to a close, Sebastian's strums growing quieter until they end altogether, and Blaine can't quite bring himself to speak. His chest is constricting, cutting off his air and making it nearly impossible to form words. Sebastian carefully moves the guitar from his lap and lays it beside him, his fingertips running along the glossed wood, before he finally lifts his head and gazes over at Blaine.

His eyes are painfully honest, and Blaine's emotions must be written all over his face, because Sebastian's expression suddenly shutters closed as he hunches forward in uncertainty and reaches for Blaine's hands. "Blaine—"

Turning his head away and swallowing past the lump in his throat, Blaine chokes out, "what are we doing, Bas?"

They're back on a ferris wheel in the middle of July, and it's like nothing has changed. Blaine is still drowning in his own doubt, scrambling for something to hang on to, for _Sebastian_ to hang on to. Sebastian asks the question, and Blaine doesn't have an answer. Now, the roles are reversed, but everything else is the same.

_I don't know._

He watches as a variety of emotions pass over Sebastian's features, his mouth opening and then closing, unable to formulate a response. A sigh of defeat. Then, a simple, repeated, "Blaine."

A bitter laugh escapes Blaine's throat, and Sebastian seems to recoil at the sound, his fingers slipping from Blaine's and resting limply against his thigh. The blood is rushing past Blaine's ears, making it close to impossible to think, and everything just _hurts._

"I thought I could do this, Bas. I really did. I kept telling myself you were going to leave, like that would change anything." His voice breaks, and he drops his head into his hands, scrubbing furiously at his burning eyes. "Like it would stop me from...from feeling things. But it didn't work. How the hell am I supposed to watch you just...go?"

Blaine hates himself, just a little bit, because somewhere along the line, he'd developed expectations and hopes even though Sebastian had _promised him nothing,_ had made it clear from the start that he would be gone soon. And it hurts so fucking badly, this absolute helplessness, the fact that there's not a thing Blaine can do. This isn't a picturesque summer fling, or a storybook happily-ever-after; it's real life. And real life doesn't include a _them._

"I thought I'd accepted it by now. I really did," he adds, after the silence has grown too thick. He's terrified to look at Sebastian, too afraid that he'll have confessed too much, and the lack of input from the boy across from him isn't helping matters. The moisture building within his eyes is beginning to seep through, spreading onto his palms, and he inhales a shuddering breath before wiping the tears on his arm and raising his head at last.

Sebastian's gaze is distant, his face blank. There is a hint of remorse in his eyes, though, and Blaine grabs desperately onto that, trying to ignore the resignation emanating from the boy in front of him.

"I wish I could tell you what you want to hear," Sebastian murmurs finally, and Blaine can see his throat working as he swallows, "but I can't, B. We both know that."

And it truly is that simple.

Clenching his eyes shut, Blaine just nods, the defeat a crushing weight in his chest. When he opens them again, Sebastian is kneeling in front of him, grasping at his palms and clutching them fiercely. His fingers are long, the skin rough against his, and they fit perfectly between Blaine's own. It feels monumental, this moment, but in truth, it is nothing more than a blip in the expanse of eternity, a split second of exactness that will fade, given time.

"Blaine, you know that I—" Sebastian's voice cracks, his fingers squeezing Blaine's own in place of the words that he just can't say, but Blaine still hears them, loud and clear.

"Me, too," he mumbles, and a weak, deprecating smile appears on his face, his eyes beginning to water once more. "But that doesn't really matter, does it?"

Sebastian's head lowers to gaze at their joined hands, and then he croaks out, "I can't stay."

"I can't go," Blaine replies softly. "You understand, don't you?"

He knows Sebastian does. Blaine can't let himself be that person again, the one who sacrifices and obeys everything, no matter how badly he wants to, and Sebastian gets that. He won't _let_ Blaine be that person. Not for him.

"I'm not supposed to have to deal with this stuff," Sebastian whispers, and it translates to _why do you have to matter so much?_

Blaine almost wishes he _didn't._

"Look," he mumbles finally, forcing himself to hold Sebastian's eyes and keep his voice steady. "You're going to kick ass at Columbia. I'm going to spend a year getting my act together, and we'll talk whenever you want to, and whether I end up in New York next fall or not, things will work out. I won't promise you anything, because you've never promised _me_ anything. That's the only way this can happen."

Sebastian's face fills with a kind of solemn understanding, and Blaine can tell that he's accepted it, the reality that this is going to end.

_End._ The word has Blaine's heart shattering into a million tiny, jagged pieces.

Without warning, Sebastian is climbing back to his feet, and then he is pulling gently on Blaine's hand to follow. They stand facing each other, Blaine's forehead wrinkling in confusion until Sebastian gives him the saddest of smiles, his expression wistful.

"We still have a week, right?"

Blaine leans up on his toes and kisses him.

* * *

August twenty-first.

Blaine picks up a class catalog for Lima Community College and hides it under his pillow, mentally beginning to form the speech he'll have to give his parents.

* * *

August twenty-second.

He and Sebastian are invited to one last get-together at Nick's house before the school year begins. They remain attached by the hip all night, and Jeff repeatedly shoots them knowing looks, to which Sebastian finally responds by kissing Blaine firmly on the mouth.

"Will you stop looking so smug now?" He declares after he pulls away, Thad grumbling and slapping a twenty-dollar bill into Jeff's palm.

* * *

August twenty-third.

Cooper talks with him over the phone as they prepare for Blaine to make the announcement to his parents, and Sebastian is a solid presence at his side the entire time, squeezing his arm reassuringly and even offering to stay for the moment when Blaine finally breaks the news.

"Thanks, but...I need to do this myself," Blaine decides.

* * *

August twenty-fourth.

Over plates of chicken lasagna, Blaine informs his parents that he won't be attending UCLA in the fall.

It's the second time in his life that he's made his mother cry.

* * *

August twenty-fifth.

"It's okay, B," Sebastian whispers. Blaine's face is tucked into the side of his neck, his tears wetting the boy's skin as they lay curled together on Sebastian's bed. Hushed sobs filter out of his chest, and he clings desperately to Sebastian's torso, voice wrecked when he speaks.

"T-they hate me," he hiccups, past the point of caring that he resembles a pathetic five-year-old. Sebastian's hand cradles the back of his skull gently, fingers stroking through his hair, and his words are warm against Blaine's ear.

"Cooper'll talk some sense into them," he murmurs, "don't worry."

* * *

August twenty-sixth.

Blaine's father appears in his bedroom doorway about a half hour after Sebastian has left for the evening, his arms folded across his chest and face uncomfortably stoic. Blaine straightens up from where he is perched on the edge of his bed and braces himself for the worst.

"Your brother called."

Ah.

Blaine stomps down on the hope that is swelling in his chest and forces himself to keep his voice quiet. "What about?"

"He told us that he already knew about UCLA," his father continues, "and attempted to convince us this won't somehow ruin your future completely."

The lack of emotion in his father's voice has Blaine starting to panic, and he drops his head weakly. "Dad—"

"Blaine," his father interrupts, and Blaine's mouth snaps shut, any protest dying in his throat. "I'm sure you know that taking a year off isn't a good idea. But...we don't have any other options right now, and your mother and I _know_ that you're a determined, driven young man. We'll expect you to take a few classes, get a job, the whole deal. You're an adult now, and you can make your own decisions, but if you're going to be staying under this roof, I'm going to treat you like it. Understood?"

The relief fills every inch of Blaine's being, and he quickly scrambles up to his feet, leveling his father with most grateful look he can muster. "Dad, I—thank you."

It feels like things are finally beginning to make sense again.

* * *

August twenty-seventh.

A message from an unknown number pops up on Sebastian's phone while Blaine waits for him to return from the kitchen, and he absently glances over at the screen when the device vibrates.

_From: 323-998-0714_

_Be good to my brother._

* * *

August twenty-eighth.

"You called Cooper."

Sebastian looks up from his food, offering a small shrug. "You needed him."

Stabbing at a piece of lettuce with his fork, Blaine ignores the way his heart seems to pang violently against the inside of his chest. "Stop doing that."

When he meets Blaine's gaze, Sebastian is genuinely confused. "Doing what?"

"Caring."

* * *

August twenty-ninth.

Blaine wakes up feeling...different.

He floats through his morning routine, barely noticing as he brushes his teeth and pulls on some clothes. The house around him is quiet, his parents already gone for the day, and he grabs his keys and his phone before firing off a text to Sebastian.

_From: Blaine_

_I'm coming to yours._

The highway is mostly void of traffic, and he makes it to Westerville in a reasonable amount of time, pulling up in front of Sebastian's house around lunchtime. His mind remains startlingly blank, as he forcibly pushes away any and all thoughts about the date and what it means. All that matters is he and Sebastian, and he plans on focusing on that.

Sebastian answers the door with some sort of notebook clutched in his hands, and he steps out onto the porch instead of inviting Blaine inside, his head tilting to the side. "Can I take you somewhere?" He asks, and Blaine agrees without really thinking about it, abandoning his own car in favor of Sebastian's. The vehicle is like a second home to him by now, and it brings about a roll of nostalgia that Blaine desperately struggles to ignore. Sebastian's latest mix is playing from the stereo, and Blaine catches the first few words of _Carry On_ by fun. before he tunes the music out, instead gazing across at Sebastian as he drives them to some unknown destination.

To say that Blaine is mildly surprised when they pass the _Schrock Lake Recreation Area_ sign would be an understatement. Any and all of his efforts towards decidedly _not_ thinking about the past months are suddenly for nothing, and he's so overcome by the abrupt onslaught of emotions that he has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself in check. The lake appears so much different in broad daylight, the sun reflecting off the still water and the trees standing tall and rugged against the landscape. There are a few small fishing boats out on the water, but the area is mostly quiet, and when they pull up next to the same dock from so many weeks ago, Blaine can feel his heart clench in his chest.

He and Sebastian exit the car silently, the mysterious notebook still tucked beneath Sebastian's arm as he leads them out to the lone picnic table on the landing. They seat themselves with their feet resting on the bench, bodies aligned from head to toe and not a centimeter of space separating them. It's just like that first night in May, but better and worse at the same time, because so much has happened since then and by tomorrow, it will all come to an end.

But Blaine isn't thinking about that.

Sebastian deposits the notebook in his lap, his fingers then searching out Blaine's and grasping them gently. They sit like that, contemplative, as they both gaze out at the water and say nothing, until Sebastian finally breaks the silence and turns towards Blaine. "The last time we were here, you asked me about...the therapy," he says softly, his free hand curling around the notebook in his lap. He glances down at it for a moment, and then holds it out for Blaine to take, his expression growing determined. "That was the journal she had me fill. It's...got everything. I want you to have it."

Blaine's throat is rapidly closing up, and he has to blink furiously to keep the tears at bay. "Bas—"

"It starts right after...right after Karofsky, and it stops before graduation," Sebastian explains, looking down at their joined hands. "It's not—I'm not trying to gain your pity, or throw a wrench into this, you just...you deserve to read it."

Exhaling a shuddering breath, Blaine gingerly holds the notebook in his free hand, trailing his thumb across the worn cover. "You're really not making this easy, Bas."

"Nothing about this is easy," Sebastian states simply.

When Blaine looks up, Sebastian is gazing intently at him, and then Blaine is moving the notebook to one side and leaning in, Sebastian's palm rising to cup the side of his face. His thumb smooths along Blaine's jaw, his cheekbone, and their foreheads come to rest against one another, Blaine's eyes fluttering shut.

"I'm sort of in love with you." The words are a hushed whisper into the space between them, and Sebastian's fingers falter against Blaine's skin as if he hadn't expected the words to actually be spoken. They've been dancing around them for ages now, both knowing that the feelings were there and just not put into words. But now, with less than twenty-four hours left, Blaine has nothing to lose.

Or possibly everything.

Sebastian's mouth finds his, and Blaine shoves any worries from his mind in favor of listening as Sebastian spells out his response with his lips and his touch. His fingertips graze the side of Blaine's neck, teeth worrying the swell of Blaine's bottom lip, and Blaine gives himself up to the sensations, his palms skimming along Sebastian's chest, his waist. Their movements are slow, yet with a sense of urgency behind them, and Blaine has to physically restrain himself and lean away after what seems like forever, his mouth swollen and face flushed.

"Bas," he murmurs, tucking a too-long strand of hair away from Sebastian's face. "Let's go home."

Sebastian's house is empty when they return, the rooms dark and the sound of their footsteps echoing against the walls. Blaine's palm is wrapped up in the other boy's, and he allows himself to be pulled down the hall to Sebastian's bedroom, a sense of nervous anticipation curling in his stomach. They glance briefly at each other after they've entered the room, the door clicking shut softly behind them, and Sebastian is then reeling him in with a palm cradling the back of his head as his mouth crashes down onto Blaine's.

Their lips slide together almost frantically, so different than what Blaine is used to. He hardly has a chance to notice them stumbling towards the bed, his back thumping onto the mattress as Sebastian settles on top of him, the kiss never breaking for a moment. His palms are slipping beneath the front of Sebastian's shirt, stroking along the defined muscles of his stomach, and Sebastian's mouth is soon trailing a path down the side of Blaine's neck, the feeling sending a shudder down Blaine's spine.

"Sebastian," he breathes, fingers finding their way into Sebastian's hair and tugging him upwards until their mouths can meet once more.

Shirts are tossed aside, quickly followed by the rest of their clothing, and their movements are rushed and desperate, but Blaine is sure that the slide of Sebastian's skin against his own is unlike _anything_, a curse and an answered prayer all at once. Sebastian's breath is warm against his shoulder, and his palms brush across Blaine's skin in a manner so reverent that Blaine finally _stops thinking,_ giving himself up to the sensations and clinging to Sebastian as if nothing else matters.

Which it doesn't, in that moment; in the fading afternoon light filtering through Sebastian's curtains, the room quiet aside from the soft pants of their breaths, the occasional sound of lips caressing skin. It is just he and Sebastian, clutching at one another despite the inevitability of soon escaping the other's grasp. No words are needed. As cliché as it seems, Blaine understands everything Sebastian is attempting to convey through his touch, through the look in his eyes.

Just like always.


	8. Part Eight

_notes- _Final chapter! I'm going to save my extended notes for the end, but I just wanted to apologize in advance if this ending is rushed/choppy/etc. etc. I feel like it kind of is, but I really just wanted to post this so that this story can be complete, and if I were to edit it, I wouldn't even know where to start. Hope you enjoy it anyway!

* * *

**Part Eight**

* * *

August thirtieth.

Morning arrives quickly.

Although it is painfully early when Blaine's eyes flutter open, he is immediately wide awake, his fingers tightening where they grip Sebastian's bare hip and his face tipping sideways on the pillow as he gazes at the boy next to him. Sebastian is already watching him, his features still softened from sleep, and he reaches out almost instantly to tuck his fingers beneath Blaine's chin and press an achingly gentle kiss to his lips.

"Are you staying?" His voice is slightly hoarse, quiet in the stillness of the room, and a lump is rapidly forming in Blaine's throat as the reality of the situation slams into him.

Sebastian is leaving.

"I—" He begins, then stops, his eyes falling away from Sebastian's gaze. "I don't know if—if I can."

He doesn't know if he can watch Sebastian pack up the last of his things, watch him bid farewell to his parents, watch him _leave._

He doesn't know if he can say goodbye.

"I get it, Blaine," Sebastian murmurs, fingertips skimming over his jaw, "it's okay."

Blaine's eyes fall shut, his lungs screaming with the urge to cry out, _how is this fair? Why can't I just have this?_

But he says nothing.

"I have to be on the road by about ten." Shooting a glance at the clock, Blaine slowly digests the numbers flashing across the digital display. _7:42._ Sebastian is still watching him, expression already emanating regret, and Blaine doesn't know if he can take another two hours of this. He really doesn't.

They dress in silence, Sebastian carefully handing him a few articles of clean clothing to borrow. The underlying intent is there. _Keep them, for when I'm gone._ It takes Blaine an extra few minutes to pull the items on, his hands trembling as he tugs the shirt down over his head and slides his arms through the sleeves. The fabric hangs loosely on his frame, but he revels in it, grateful to have another piece of Sebastian.

Suddenly, he remembers the journal.

He crosses the room slowly, picking the notebook up off the dresser and turning it over in his hands, the weight of Sebastian's gaze on his back. His voice floats over a few seconds later. "Make sure you read it...please?"

The words nearly get stuck in Blaine's throat, but he manages to croak them out.

"I will."

It's the only promise either of them will be making today.

Blaine turns back to Sebastian, their eyes catching immediately, and he can already feel himself breaking. "I should—I have to go, Bas. I'm sorry."

Sebastian simply nods, his face tensing as his gaze drops to the ground. "I know," he says softly.

He seems to hover uncertainly for a long moment, but seconds later, he steps forward and makes his way towards Blaine, arms wrapping around the boy's smaller frame and tugging him close. Blaine chokes back a sob and buries his face in Sebastian's shoulder, grasping tightly to his shoulders, and they stay like that for an unknown amount of time. Nothing really registers for Blaine, aside from the familiarity of Sebastian's hands and his smell and the sound of his breath into Blaine's hair. Sebastian envelops him completely for one last time, and when they finally separate, Blaine's eyes are red as he tries his damndest not to break down right then and there.

"Live it up in New York, alright?" He can't even bring himself to make the words light, or conjure up a shaky smile. All he can do is try and show Sebastian that he's being honest, that he'll be _fine,_ even though they both know he won't be.

"I'll try my best," Sebastian responds, and his voice cracks on the last word, but he gives Blaine's hand a reassuring squeeze anyway. "But you, don't let Ohio swallow you, okay? This is just a bump in the road. You're gonna do great things, Killer. I know it."

They're drifting away from each other, Blaine's fingers slipping from Sebastian's grasp, the notebook clutched against his chest. His chest feels tighter with each passing moment, mouth opening but no sound coming out. He just glances over at Sebastian uselessly, his eyes wide and his expression defeated.

Luckily for him, Sebastian understands. The saddest of smiles crosses his face, and his arms hang limp at his sides as he watches Blaine grow closer to the door. "Thanks, Blaine. For everything."

Blaine's fingers are on the knob, and then he's leaving, straying down the stairs and out the front door, into his car and slumping back into his seat, the journal still wrapped between his fingers.

He doesn't cry. He's too numb for that.

* * *

August thirtieth, evening.

"Blaine, sweetheart, is everything okay?"

He looks up from the chicken he has been absently moving around on his plate for the last twenty minutes, meeting the concerned gazes of his parents. His mind is still empty, the void in his chest only increasing in size as the hours pass and Sebastian grows further away.

He wants to tell his mother that he's not fine, but he _will_ be, and that she shouldn't worry. But that would feel too much lying, and he's done enough of that this summer.

* * *

August thirty-first.

* * *

September first.

* * *

September second.

Blaine is still counting the number of hours he's been alone.

* * *

September third.

_**Sebastian Smythe**__ changed his location to __**New York, NY.**_

* * *

September ninth.

Lima Community College is quiet, bland. He begins attending a few general ed classes three mornings a week, and even texts Cooper to let him know that he's keeping himself busy.

Not that it means much.

_From: Cooper_

_Good for you, squirt. Hang in there._

* * *

September twenty-second.

_From: Jeff_

_Nicky and I miss you already!_

* * *

October.

Blaine manages to get himself a part-time job bussing tables at Breadstix, and he begins putting the extra money away into a savings account. When he tells his parents, his father claps him firmly on the back and murmurs _we're proud of you, son,_ and Blaine smiles genuinely for the first time in weeks.

* * *

November twenty-first.

**Sebastian Smythe** _is spending his first Thanksgiving in New York. Time to check out those giant turkey floats._

* * *

December fourth.

"Hey, dude, it's me! I just thought I'd drop you a message before burying myself in books for finals week. Shit is insane, man. Who knew Indiana was actually serious about studying? Anyway, uh, give me a call in a few days, if you can. We should hang out over break or something. It's Sam, by the way. Seriously though, call me!"

* * *

December thirteenth.

**Sebastian Smythe **_is now friends with _**Kurt Hummel **_and _**Rachel Berry.**

_From: _Rachel

_You'll never guess who I ran into today..._

* * *

December twenty-fourth.

Blaine is digging through his desk drawers, searching for the extra roll of scotch tape that he _knows_ he keeps in there somewhere. Cooper's present sits half-wrapped on his bed, and Blaine desperately needs to finish before his brother arrives in the next few minutes. He is rifling through stacks of papers and notebooks when he stops dead at the brush of his fingers across worn leather.

Sebastian's journal.

Something sharp and painful arises in his stomach, and he yanks the notebook out of the drawer, depositing it on top of his desk and staring down at the cover. He'd completely forgotten about it, too absorbed in the gaping hole Sebastian had left, his classes, and his new job. The sight of the journal now, four months later, is like a slap in the face, a reminder of everything he'd lost on that morning back in August.

And just when he'd thought he might be moving on, at least a tiny bit.

Cooper's gift instantly forgotten, Blaine sits down heavily in his chair and continues to gaze at the notebook lying before him. He trails his fingertips along the spine, his mind flashing back to the moment Sebastian had given it to him.

_You deserve to read it._

With trembling fingers, he opens to the first page.

_Therapy._

_I never thought I'd be here. I've fucked up my fair share of times before, but never have the consequences been as serious as this. I put someone in the hospital. Well, make that more than one. I may be an asshole, but I'm not a monster. Nobody was supposed to get hurt._

_It was a joke. A stupid joke. Kurt was supposed to cry over his sweater being ruined, that was all. But Blaine—his name is Blaine—he might lose an eye because of me. And that's sort of terrifying._

_You know what else is terrifying? That a supposedly harmless comment I'd muttered to a stranger led to a suicide attempt._

_I want them to know how sorry I am. I want them __**all**__ to know how sorry I am, but I don't even know how to say it. I haven't done this before. I stopped regretting things a long time ago._

The words travel down the pages from there, and Blaine soon loses himself in reading, his fingers gripping the notebook so tightly that his knuckles go white. There is an entry dated once every week, from the first day in February all the way to the following May. By the time he reaches the final paragraph, his cheeks are wet, and he wipes furiously at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, his chest coiling up so tightly that it _aches._

_It's done. I sent the invitation._

_There's nothing else I can do._

_I've fixed things as best I can._

The journal falls shut in his lap, and Blaine can't see past the tears blurring his vision, his mind an utter jumble of thoughts.

_He wouldn't mind telling Sebastian one day. Maybe._

"Mom, dad," he calls breathlessly, shoving his arms into his coat as he rushes down the stairs and sticks his head into the kitchen doorway. "I'm really sorry, but tell Cooper I'm going to be late. I've got somewhere I need to be first."

* * *

December twenty-fourth, evening.

A fresh layer of snow covers the roads of Westerville, and as Blaine pulls up in front of the Smythe household, he realizes that he hasn't considered the possibility of Sebastian not even being _home_ for Christmas. However, he isn't deterred, and he wraps his scarf more tightly around his neck as he exits the car and bounds up the front walk, pressing a shaking finger to the doorbell and settling in to wait.

Moments later, the front door opens, and Mrs. Smythe's eyes widen as soon as she spots him, the skin around her eyes wrinkling as she smiles warmly, gesturing him inside. "My, Blaine! What a surprise. We weren't expecting you. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas. I'm—sorry if I'm intruding, I just came over sort of last minute," he murmurs nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Is Bas here?"

"Of course. I'll go tell him you're here."

She doesn't question him at all, for which Blaine is thankful. As he waits for her to go fetch Sebastian, his eyes scan around the front hall absently, taking in the few new picture frames on the wall since he was here last. There is one in particular that catches his eye—it's Sebastian in his Dalton uniform, most likely his school picture, and his hair is spiked and face young as if it were taken not long after Blaine had met him for the first time. The photograph has Blaine's chest clenching, and he only snaps out of his wandering thoughts when someone clears their throat from behind him, causing him to spin around.

"Blaine," Sebastian says, his voice colored with confusion, and Blaine smiles weakly as the other boy's eyebrows furrow in uncertainty. He seems startled, but not unhappy, and Blaine takes that as a good sign, inhaling a deep breath before releasing the words that he'd been formulating ever since reading the last few words of the journal.

"I know I should have called," he begins, and he's not just referring to the fact that he's arrived at Sebastian's house out of the blue. He means the lack of contact they'd fallen into over the past months, which is just as much his fault as it is Sebastian's. "But I—I couldn't. We didn't promise each other anything, and I had to respect that. Well, there was one thing I promised..."

Sebastian's arms are folded across his chest, and he still appears to be completely out of his element, his lips pursed and forehead wrinkled. His hair is shorter, flattened against the top of his head, and his feet are shoved into an old pair of mismatched socks, and he's somehow still the Sebastian that Blaine remembers, the one who just _gets_ him, more than anyone else does.

"I read your journal," Blaine breathes, and Sebastian's face fills with understanding, though he obediently remains silent, recognizing that Blaine isn't done speaking yet. "And I realized that I—I never told you _my_ story. I'd like a chance to do that, if...if you still want to hear it."

His voice finally dies off, fingers fidgeting nervously with the sleeve of his jacket, as he waits for Sebastian to respond. When he looks up again, Sebastian's features have softened remarkably, and he has that fond look in his eyes, the one reserved solely for Blaine.

Blaine's body goes warm all the way through.

"Of course I want to hear it," Sebastian states softly. Blaine swallows past the hope that swells inside of him, and clarifies once more, just to be sure.

"It's sort of long—"

Sebastian's voice cuts him off, his mouth curling up at the edges. "We've got time."

* * *

December thirty-first.

They kiss at midnight.

Blaine has a feeling it's going to be a pretty good year.

* * *

January thirteenth.

Sebastian heads back to school, but not without a murmured promise of coming back to visit in a few weeks.

* * *

February fourteenth.

Sebastian's face seems to fall, and he scratches nervously at the back of his neck. "C'mon, Blaine, you know I'm bad at this stuff—"

Blaine just stares at the giant purple teddy bear in silence.

"Please say something?" Sebastian asks weakly. "You hate it. I can tell."

"Where did you even _find_ this?" Blaine chokes out finally, the familiar button nose and cheap fur of the stuffed animal rough against his skin as he runs his palms over it, his eyes wide.

"You left it in my car, and I just—I kept it. I don't know."

When Blaine looks up, Sebastian's adorably anxious expression causes something warm to unravel inside his chest, and he finds himself stumbling forward as the widest of grins crosses his face.

"_Bastian,_" comes Blaine's breathless reply, and then he is dropping the bear and tugging his boyfriend in for a kiss.

* * *

March first.

_Congratulations! We are pleased to notify you of your acceptance into New York University for the 2014-2015 school year..._

* * *

June seventh.

"It's been a year."

"Huh?" Blaine mutters unintelligently, lifting his head from where it had been tucked into Sebastian's shoulder and blinking himself out of his daze.

"One year. Since we started over," Sebastian clarifies, and the realization slams into Blaine like a freight train.

He remembers.

Two sets of eyes meeting in the darkness of Trent's backyard. A mutual understanding.

"_Wanna get out of here?"_

His own worries for the future, and Sebastian's unwavering reassurance.

"_That doesn't mean that you've failed or something."_

The start of something.

"_I'll call you?"_

The banter.

"_Why are we friends?"_

"_I have no idea."_

The past.

"_I never hated you before, and I definitely don't hate you now."_

A ferris wheel, Sebastian's voice a hushed whisper between them.

"_Let it happen."_

Sebastian's uncanny ability to just _get him._

"_Why are you so good at that?"_

"_Good at what?"_

"_Figuring me out."_

Falling

"_You miss me."_

"_You wish."_

and

"_I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, but I can't, B. We both know that."_

falling

"_I'm sort of in love with you."_

"I'm really glad you invited me to that graduation," Blaine says softly, and Sebastian just smiles.

* * *

August twenty-ninth.

"Shit, shit, _shit._"

Blaine grumbles under his breath in irritation as his eyes scan the row of doors to his left, counting off the numbers as he goes. _203, 205, 207..._

It had taken him fifteen extra minutes to find Baker Hall, after an upperclassmen has pointed him in the wrong direction and forced him to walk in a giant circle until he finally spotted the looming building in the distance. The humid summer air is something he still hasn't adjusted to quite yet, and his t-shirt sticks to the small of his back, his hair frizzing slightly from the moisture. He knows that he must look awful, but there are more important things on his mind at the moment, like finding his dorm room, which he finally accomplishes as the number _223_ appears in front of him. Resisting the urge to pump his fist victoriously, Blaine digs around in his pocket for the key that had been given to him at orientation and anxiously sticks it in the lock, the knob twisting until he can finally push the door all the way open.

A tall figure is already sprawled out across one of the empty beds, and Blaine bites back his confusion as he glances around the otherwise vacant room, not a single box in sight. He stumbles through the doorway and pastes on his friendliest smile, ready to greet whoever happens to be his new roommate, when the person suddenly lowers the magazine from in front of his face and shoots him a blinding grin.

Blaine's heart skips a beat, and he immediately smiles back, crossing the room in three quick strides to meet Sebastian as he stands up, dumping the magazine onto the bare mattress and turning back around just in time to catch Blaine with two arms around his waist, a laugh filtering out of his throat.

"What are you doing here?" Blaine exclaims, his voice somewhat breathless as he tips his head back to meet Sebastian's gaze.

His boyfriend is still smiling widely, leaning down to press their foreheads together, and his tone is fond as he cups Blaine's face between his palms and replies, "I figured I'd come and help you unpack." He pauses for a moment, another chuckle escaping him before he arches a single brow. "I take it I'm not what you were expecting?"

Blaine's heart ricochets against the inside of his chest, and he beams. "Not in the slightest."

_fin_

* * *

**Well, that's it. I feel like I'm supposed to have a lot more to say now that this fic is over, but all I can come up with is_ thank you. _Thank you all so much for the incredible feedback and support. This is the first time I've actually completed a somewhat lengthy, multi-chaptered fic, and I'm quite proud, if I do say so myself. So yes, THANK YOU! I would thank each person who has reviewed individually, but your names would take awhile to list, and not to mention all of the people on tumblr who have following as well. And to any anons/guests who have reviewed without me being able to respond- thank you as well! The kind words really do mean the world to me. I'm rambling now, but just know that I'm incredibly grateful.**

**And, in case anyone is interested in what exactly I've been listening to for this story:**

_we are young- fun. / all those pretty lights- andrew belle / treacherous- taylor swift / U.N.I- ed sheeran / edge of desire- john mayer / out on the town- fun. / carry on- fun. / time won't let me go- the bravery / 'til kingdom come- coldplay / kiss me slowly- parachute / lego house- ed sheeran / this love (will be your downfall)- ellie goulding / collide- howie day / demons- imagine dragons / bulletproof weeks- matt nathanson / talk- coldplay / give me love- ed sheeran / kiss you- one direction / everywhere- michelle branch / if you ever come back- the script / to the beat of our noisy hearts- matt nathanson / all too well- taylor swift / state of grace- taylor swift_

**Again, from the bottom of my heart: thank you. You are all amazing.**


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